You Know That You Love Me
by Hillary Izzy Blair
Summary: Katniss and Peeta have been married for a few years now. The rebellion has long since happened and things are supposed to be settled down. But with a baby on the way, it seems like things are as busy as they ever have been.
1. Trust

I flip on the light switch in the front room of the house; remove my gray wool coat, mittens, hat and soaking wet boots. This winter is going to be long and cold. I walk back towards the kitchen, thinking I would find Peeta there. The lights are still on and there's fresh bread and cupcakes sitting on the counter. But no sign of my husband.

"Peeta?" I call out. "Peeta?" There's no reply. I lean against the counter, replaying my doctor's appointment over and over in my head. I fold my arms across my chest and stare at the ground.

"Katniss!" Someone calls from the door. I start to walk back; upon turning the corner, I see Peeta standing at the end of the hallway, still wearing his apron.

"Peeta!" I smile and run towards him, my arms outstretched to give him a hug. The expression on his face stops me. It's serious and distracted. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"There's someone here to see you." He explains, putting his hand on my back to steer me towards the door. When I turn the corner, my breath catches in my throat. I back up, closer to Peeta.

"Hey Catnip. How's it going?" Gale asked, taking off his gloves. I gape at him in shock.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in District 2." I say. Gale smiles and shakes his head.

"I'm your best friend and I don't even get a 'hello?'" He asks, stepping towards. I instinctively grope for Peeta's hand. I find it and hold on tightly. I wouldn't exactly call him my best friend anymore. Having Gale in my house scares me a little. Okay, it scares me a lot. He's right in front of me now but I can't back up anymore; I'm against a wall.

"Besides, I' not allowed to come back? This was once my home too, Katniss." He reaches a hand up to stroke my cheek. I pull away, turning my head so he can't touch me. I feel Peeta's hand twitch under mine. Gale pulls his hand back, a bit startled but his expression of surprise turns to sadness. I don't feel guilty though, for once in my life.

"What do you want?" I ask, trying to meet his eye. It's hard to look at him without wanting to scream. I try anyway.

"Peeta invited me for dinner. But only if you want me to." He explains. He smiles softly at me. I get a flashback of all those times I went hunting with him before my first Hunger Games. It makes me feel a little too nostalgic and so I cave.

"I don't care. Stay, then." After I've said it, Gale lets out a breath of relief he didn't know he'd been holding. Peeta starts moving first and since I'm still holding his hand, I go too. I try to put as much distance between Gale and me by pushing ahead of Peeta so I'm leading the way.

When we're back in the kitchen, Peeta lets go of my hand. I stand against the counter, trying to keep my face clear of emotion. He stands behind me.

"Sorry, it's only for dinner." He apologizes before kissing my cheek. He turns to face Gale now. "Is lamb stew and bread okay?" He asks. Gale nods. He's not picky about anything. "Alright, I've just got to finish closing down the Bakery but I'll be right back." He says, hurrying past Gale so he can un-apron himself.

I get out a knife to start cutting bread. I can feel Gale looking at me, sizing me up because he hasn't seen me since before I got married.

"Does Peeta know?" He asks suddenly. "Is that why he's so happy to let me stay?" I do my best to ignore him, mostly because I don't know what he's talking about. "He does know you're pregnant, right?" At this, I nearly chop my hand off with the knife. I whip around and glare at him.

"Who told you?" I ask, except no one else know yet and he just got back tonight. Gale smiles at me but he's learned his lesson about coming towards me; especially since I have a knife.

"No one told me, Catnip. I just could tell. So you haven't told him yet?" I go back to cutting the bread. It would be like Gale to read my mind like that. It's what I used to like about him; I didn't have to hide anything while I was with him. I waited till I didn't have a knife to respond.

"No, I just found out today." I took a seat at the table, resting my elbow on the wood and my chin in my hand. I looked glumly at the place mat. Gale read my thoughts again.

"You don't want kids, do you Katniss?" I shake my head. "But Peeta does?" I nod. He runs a hand through his long hair. It's grown back long and thick since he had it shaved for the Rebellion. "Do you want me to tell-?"

"No!" I snap. "I'm telling him. And I'm telling him when you're not here. If I hear one word come out of your mouth that even so much as _hints_ at my pregnancy, you will die." I point a finger accusingly at him. He puts his hands up in surrender.

"Fine," he agrees. "So, I can't tell him there's a bun in the oven?" He jokes in usual Gale fashion. I whip a napkin at him but it flutters to the ground before it reaches him.

"No," I say, but he's smiling and holding back a laugh.

Before anything else can be said on the matter, Peeta returns. I'm glad that he's back but my most recent conversation makes my stomach flop at the sight of him. He's brought some extra lamb stew from the Bakery fridge and he heats it up and serves it. Gale sits across from me, while Peeta sits beside me.

"So, what brings you back to District 12?" Peeta asks conversationally.

"Well, the project I'm working on in 2 is being put on hold for the winter so I thought I'd come back here for Christmas. See my family, you two, put flowers on Prim's grave." He explains and I tense up at the mention of Prim's name. Peeta must notice and he knows how I feel about her and Gale because he's putting a hand on my shoulder and rubbing it.

"I'm sure your mother will be very glad to have you home for the holidays." He says, glossing over the sticky moment with ease. They both talk some more as if they've been friends forever. I can feel my stomach doing more back-flips. I swallow each mouthful of stew with difficulty. Finally, my stomach can't take it anymore. I feel it lurch forward and I put my spoon down. Peeta and Gale both look at me quizzically. There it goes again and I bolt for the bathroom.

"Katniss?" Peeta calls after me. His voice is filled with concern and worry. I get to the toilet just in time. Everything comes up from lunch onward. In a matter of seconds, Peeta is kneeling behind me, rubbing my back and whispering to me. I start to cry from the feeling of everything coming back up my throat.

When I'm sure it's over, I wipe my mouth and flush the toilet. I lean back into Peeta's chest and he just rocks me gently back and forth.

"You're okay, Katniss." He soothes. I close my eyes because it's made me exhausted for some reason. Gale stands in the doorway, watching with a smirk on his face. When I notice this, I'm scared he's going to tell Peeta the real reason why I've thrown up.

"Well Catnip, sick of me already?" He asks, the smirk widening into a smile. He thinks it's the best joke he's ever told. I smile softly but not because I find his comment amusing. Its relief that I've discovered maybe, just maybe, I _can_ trust Gale again.


	2. Telling Peeta

Peeta lets me lean on him for support as he takes me to the living room. I feel better now but Peeta's too cautious. He lays me down on the couch, tucking my hair behind my ear. It had been in a bun earlier, but now it was falling out.

"Are you okay? Do I need to get a doctor?" He asks, stroking my hair and unknowingly making it more tangled. I shake my head.

"I'm fine, Peeta. I think I just ate too much." I say, but he doesn't look convinced. I sit up a bit and kiss him. "If I was really sick, I wouldn't have done that. I'd be too scared that you would get sick." I explain. This does the trick. I hear Gale make a noise as if he's going to throw up. I try not to roll my eyes. Peeta kisses me again and then stands up.

"You should at least get some rest. I'll wake you when Gale leaves." He promises. The two men go back to the kitchen to finish eating. I _am_ getting sleepy and so I close my eyes for just a second…

xxx

Peeta is shaking me gently. I open my eyes and he smiles. "Time to go upstairs." He says, offering a hand to help me up. I stand and he leads the way upstairs to our bedroom.

"Wh-where's Gale?" I ask.

"Oh, he left about an hour ago. He told me not to wake you because you needed your sleep. I agreed." He tells me. I quickly head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and comb the knots out of my hair. I braid it as fast as I can. Peeta's already brushed his teeth and he's put his pyjama pants on. He still thinks it's warm enough not to wear a shirt, and tonight I don't pester him about hypothermia.

Instead, I put on his abandoned pyjama shirt and crawl into bed beside him. He wraps his arms around me and I rest my head on his chest. It's warm in Peeta's arms.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks one last time.

"I'm perfectly fine, Peeta. Stop worrying about me." I yawn and he kisses the top of my head. He twists my long braid in his fingers as I drift off once more.

xxx

The sound of kids yelling in the street outside wakes us both up at the same time. I rub sleep out of my eyes and stretch. Peeta does the same and then he smiles.

"I love the sound of kids laughing." He says, sitting up.

"Peeta," I start to say. And although my head is screaming 'Stop!' my mouth moves of its own accord. "I'm pregnant." I turn to see his reaction. He's sitting, staring at me, his mouth open.

"Seriously?"

"Yes," he grins and as the words process more and more, it turns into an ear-splitting smile.

"This is great, Katniss!" He exclaims, getting up on his knees in excitement. Then he sees my expression which is the opposite of his; sad. "You still haven't changed your mind about this." The smile vanishes, replaced by a crease between his eyebrows. I shake my head and I sit up too.

"I'm scared." I tell him truthfully. He takes my hands in his. The feeling of tears starts at the back of my eyes.

"Katniss Mellark, do you trust me?" He asks, taking me off guard. I nod, feeling a tear roll down my cheek.

"More than you can imagine." I tell him. My voice shakes but it's true.

"Then you'll believe me when I say you have nothing to be scared of. Everything is safe here. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Katniss, you'll make a great mother." He leans his forehead against mine, pulling me up so we're level. "Everything's going to be fine." Although it sounds cheesy and I used to gag when I heard people say stuff like that, coming from Peeta it makes sense.

"Okay," is all I can manage to say before I'm really crying. Peeta holds me tighter to him. I calm down in a few minutes. I pull away so I can see his face. He wipes my tears away gently and I smile. He smiles back and I start to laugh. All of a sudden, he's made me excited about this.

"Does that mean I can get excited about it now?" He asks, his mouth twitching into a bigger smile.

"If you really have to." I tease. He jumps off the bed, pumping a fist into the air.

"A baby!" He shouts. "I'm so happy, Katniss!" He comes over to the bed and picks me up like he did after our wedding. I sling my arms around his neck and he twirls me around.

"Hey!" I say indignantly but I'm having fun. He stops anyways.

"I don't ever want to leave your side, Katniss. Or the baby's," He puts me down gently and kisses me like he hasn't seen me in weeks. "Come to the Bakery with me today. I want to see your beautiful face all day."

"Okay, Peeta, relax." He's going very un-Peeta on me with excitement. "I have to shower first." I say. He does relax a little. It's taken a lot out of him to twirl me around and shout for joy. He limps when he walks to the bathroom with me.

"I'll wash your hair." He offers. He's only done it once or twice before but it's so relaxing to feel his fingers run through my hair, that I agree. Right now, it feels like all we have to do today is clean my hair. It's a good feeling because it's simple. Peeta runs the water till it's warm. I step in first and he follows.

We're silent until I'm rinsing shampoo out of my hair. Peeta is the first to speak.

"So, who should we tell first?" I open my eyes and stop rinsing.

"What do you mean? Who else is there to tell?" I ask. Peeta's family and Prim are both gone.

"Your mother, Haymitch, Sae, Paylor, Gale." He makes a list. I don't feel a need to tell any of those people, except for Greasy Sae.

"My mother won't care. She won't come back here, baby or not." I begin. "Haymitch isn't coming within 300 feet of this child. Paylor has enough stuff to think about and Gale – " I almost tell him the Gale already knows, but I catch myself just in time.

"Slow down Katniss." Peeta turns me around so he can put conditioner in. "If you don't want to tell them, then we won't. But they're going to notice eventually. And I know your mother; she'll be down here if you need her." He combs his fingers through my hair and kisses my neck. "I love you." He says.

"I love you, too." I reply. I know he's probably right because he's always right. We get dressed and then he goes downstairs while I put my hair into two braids instead of one.

Just like when 'forever' started.


	3. Haymitch Abernathy

I do end up staying at the Bakery all day with Peeta. I haven't seen him this happy since the day we got married. Every time he finishes taking an order, he looks at me and smiles again. I sit at one of the tables, letting people sit down across from me and talk. I'm usually not in the mood to talk to people, but I'm too happy.

People are noticing my unusual good mood and our playful glances. More than one older lady gives me a knowing look, and then tells me to call her in nine months with the 'good news.' Is it that obvious that that's the reason for me being here? I clearly don't spend enough time here.

A couple of times when the line thins out, Peeta decorates me a cupcake and serves it to me. He does it special for me with yellow icing and a white crescent moon in the middle. I know it's to symbolize Prim's favourite colour and the District 11 bread from Rue. Only once is the shop so slow with business that he sits with me and we share the delicious pastry. There are a few things my husband can still do really well after all he's been through. Baking and taking care of me are at the top of the list.

Peeta gets an hour off for lunch. He spends the first 30 minutes of it in the back, baking. While he's doing this, I hear a knock at the door. I stand up, prepared to tell someone they'll have to come back later. When I get to the door, however, I recognize the scruffy face that looks back at me. Haymitch. I open the door for him even though Peeta told me not to let anyone in. He steps in and for once he doesn't smell like alcohol. But he's been going heavy on the sobering coffee.

"Since when?" He asks roughly, hands on his hips. I feel like I'm about to be lectured for something.

"Excuse me?" I ask, the feeling of elation from this morning slowly ebbing away with every second he stands there.

"When were you two planning on telling me you were pregnant?" He demands. I stare at him in disbelief. "Hm?"

"How do you know? I've only just told Peeta this morning!" I'm a bit angry that he knows. Haymitch sits down in Peeta's spot at the table.

"News travels fast, sweetheart." Is all he says. I could hit him right then; hard in the head with one of Peeta's rolling pins.

"That still doesn't answer my question." I fume. "Who told you?" My first thought is Gale, but he and Haymitch don't talk much. At least not that I know of.

"Relax," he leans back in the chair, tipping it backwards so only 2 legs are on the ground. I can tip him over easily if he doesn't give me a straight answer soon. "Winnow came by with some bread for me and she asked me to confirm some suspicions." He starts, referring to the lady who shops for him when he's going through withdrawal and can't sanely go into public.

"I said I would do my best to find out. I guess, technically, you told me by reacting the way you did." He says it all as if he's relaying the morning's weather to me. I could burst into tears, it feels like.

"Katniss, do you want sandwiches for lunch?" Peeta says as he comes back from the kitchen. When he sees Haymitch, he smiles; when he sees my face, it vanishes. He comes to stand beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist. "What's going on here?" He asks. The legs on Haymitch's chair slam back to the floor.

"Your lovely wife was just telling me about the family you're about to start." I scowl at him. Peeta shifts uncomfortably beside me. He thinks _I've_ told Haymitch without him. And it's just seems worse after my outburst this morning. Haymitch stands up and sees Peeta's look of hesitancy.

"You both need to lighten up." He claps a hand on Peeta's shoulder. I'm pleased to note that he's done it gently so he doesn't hurt Peeta's leg from the pressure. There are still times when he can't walk very well and sometimes not at all. "Winnow just wanted to know why Miss Mockingjay here was so content to talk to people."

Peeta relaxes. I, on the other hand, stiffen at the mention of Mockingjay. It's always been a reminder of the Rebellion and the people that died because of me. Peeta feels my body tense. He kisses the side of my head a couple times.

"So, I'm the first person you've officially told?" Haymitch helps himself to a chocolate cupcake with strawberry jam frosting.

"Yes,"

"No," I glance at Peeta. Both he and our old mentor look confused. "Sorry, I was counting when I told Peeta." I try not to blush because I was thinking about Gale… again.

"Well, the only advice I have for you is too stay off your feet. We don't want any more miscarriages." He winks at me. I do my best to hide my grin. He finishes the cupcake and heads for the door. "Oh, I almost forgot. Gale's back in town. I had a nice talk with him today." His hand is on the doorknob of the Bakery. He turns it but doesn't open the door yet.

"You should talk to him. He's got a lot of… news you might wanna hear, sweetheart." He leaves after that. I must be shaking because Peeta gives me a hug.

"I'll make you some hot chocolate, hm?" He offers, kissing me softly on the lips. I kiss him back but only half-heartedly. He can tell that I'm worried, but he thinks it's just about Haymitch knowing. I did say, not 4 hours ago that Haymitch wasn't coming near our baby. I sit back at the table and sigh quietly so Peeta won't hear.

I go back to Haymitch's last words before he left. Gale has news that I might want to hear? It doesn't sound right. Suddenly, I'm hit with the realization that Winnow didn't come in to buy bread today…

**A/N **

**Thank you for such nice reviews! **


	4. The News

I'm silent the rest of the day. Peeta spends more time in the back decorating than he does taking orders. I pretend I'm fine when I'm around Peeta because I don't want him to worry. I kiss him every time he comes out to talk to me. It's either that or crying.

I'm completely pissed at Gale. And Haymitch for lying to me, except Haymitch always lies to me so it's not that big a deal. It's just annoying. Luckily, the afternoon never garners many customers so I'm alone with my thoughts.

"Ready to go home?" Peeta finally says at 3 o'clock. He usually doesn't close until 5 but he needs a break and there's no one in sight. He laces his fingers between mine. The wind's picked up outside and thick clumps of snow fall from the sky. I shiver underneath my coat.

"Here," Peeta unwraps his scarf and ties it around my neck. "Better?" His blue eyes meet mine.

"Perfect," I smile. The walk back home is short since we live down the street. Peeta stops me on the front porch, right before I'm about to go in.

"I've been thinking about what Haymitch said about Gale having news for you." Oh no, I gulp. "You should go talk to him. Gale, I mean. I'll make you some tea when you get back." He says it like it's no big deal but I know it is. He kisses my forehead. "Go," I don't need to be told twice.

Gale still stays with his mother on the off-time he visits, which I guess has only been once before. The roads haven't been salted yet so it's slow going. When I finally reach the Hawthorne's, I'm glad Peeta gave me his scarf. I only have to knock once before the door opens and I see Gale standing in the doorway.

"Hey, come in," he hurries me in and I oblige. He takes my coat, hat and Peeta's scarf. I take off my boots and spend a couple minutes warming up before I remember why I'm here.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks. I punch him in the arm. It's not hard enough to hurt him, just enough to make him pay attention.

"I thought you said you wouldn't tell!" I say angrily.

"I didn't!" He defends. It's even worse because I know he's lying to me. I punch him again. "Hey!" He cries.

"Then what news did you tell Haymitch? How does he know if you didn't tell him?" My vision is blurred with tears.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn't tell Haymitch. I haven't said anything to anyone. That's not the news I have." He sighs. "Sit down, please." I'm a bit shocked and still crying but I sit down on one of the comfortable armchairs. Gale sits across from me on the couch. "The news isn't about you. It's about me." It sounds like he's trying to break up with me. 'It's not you, it's me.' "I don't know how to go about saying this. It was easier to tell Peeta and Haymitch. So, I'm just going to say it." My mind freezes when he says that Peeta already knows. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm getting married." He smiles and blushes. Gale? Married? Do mine ears deceive me? I stare at him, my mouth open, still crying. "I know it sounds crazy…"

"Yeah, it does. Who is she?" I manage to say without my voice shaking too badly.

"Well, we met in District 2, but she's from 11. Her name is Tink." I still can't believe it. Gale takes my silence as permission to keep talking. "We're getting married sometimes this spring. April maybe or May. We're still not sure if we want to stay in 2 or settle down in 11 or 12." He's told me all he can.

"Oh," I wipe my eyes and wish Peeta was with me. He always knows what to say to make me feel better.

"Come on, I'll make you some tea." Gale stands up and I shakily go to the kitchen with him. The tea does make me calm down. Soon, Gale is talking to me like it hasn't been years since we last saw each other.

"Are we getting each other Christmas presents this year?" He asks, investigating his mother's fridge for leftovers.

"Your gift was getting to know I'm pregnant before Peeta." I say.

"Fine, then your gift is getting to know I'm getting married." I give him a look and shake my head.

"No, because you're excited about the baby. I'm not excited about your wedding." He walks over so he's standing in front of my chair.

"You're not excited for me?" He's serious now. It's time I was honest with Gale though.

"No, I'm not. Gale, you're not ready to get married. Getting married is giving up your freedom. And you still need your freedom and adventure; I can see it in your eyes. Once you get married, you stay home all the time and you have someone else to worry about besides yourself. Someday, you'll be like Peeta and I: about to have another person that relies on you for everything. Marriage is hard. You have your burdens and you'll have hers too. It's not for you, Gale. I know it isn't." I explain. Gale's face has fallen.

"Then why did you get married? Peeta has more burdens than anyone else you know." He points out. "What about your freedom and adventure?"

"Gale-" I try to get him to take it back.

"No, tell me why it's different." He orders.

"I'm done with adventure. The day the Capitol fell, I was done. I don't need freedom; I've had enough of it. And I know Peeta's got more burdens than you do, but I love him. His burdens have been mine for longer than our marriage." I get up from my spot and head for the door.

"Katniss, wait! I'm sorry." He tries to apologize. I turn around, tears rolling down my cheeks and landing in the carpet.

"When Peeta and I tell you about our baby, you are going to act shocked. You aren't going to be happy about it." I demand angrily. "I've been too confused for too long about what I want. Don't make it worse, please!" My coat and boots are on first. I wrench open the front door and jam on my hat.

Despite the slippery roads, I run back home to Peeta's safe and comfortable arms. I cry into his chest as he reassures me that it's fine, but he doesn't know half of it.

"Katniss?" 

"Yeah?"

"Where's my scarf?" At Gale's.

**A/N **

**I may be Team Peeta, but I don't hate Gale. **


	5. Hallucination

It's already dark out even though it's only 5:30. Peeta does the cooking even though it's my turn since he did dinner last night. He serves pork, mashed potatoes, and corn. I poke at my food. Gale's news and the fight we had makes me lose my appetite. Peeta puts his hand over mine on the table.

"What… what happened at Gale's?" He asks, cautiously. I feel bad because I came home crying and didn't explain myself. It's the same feeling I used to get when I lied to him. I don't lie to Peeta anymore, though.

"He told me what he told you last night." I start. Peeta's worked that out for himself though. He knows something else went on. I know I shouldn't, but I look up into his light blue eyes that are just oceans of concern. Damn, now I'm going to have to tell him. And for this to make sense, I have to include the part where Gale knew I was pregnant. It's going to kill Peeta, I'm sure.

"Anything else?" He can see it in my face that there's more.

"Don't be angry, please." I plead and he looks scared at what I might tell him. I take a deep breath before starting. "Yesterday night, when you went to close the Bakery, Gale asked me if you knew I was pregnant. He said he just could tell by looking at me that I was. I said that you didn't know and he wasn't supposed to let it slip to you. I'm sorry, Peeta. I didn't tell him on purpose. He just kind of knew." I blink back tears, but it's useless.

"So today," I continue. "I told him not to get married because he's not ready for that. He asked me why I got married to you and why I was settling down with kids. He always does that; makes me second guess everything. He tries to make me leave you for him. I'm sorry." I wipe my tears on my sleeve as Peeta's grip on my hand tightens considerably. "P-Peeta?" I say, trying to loosen his grip.

He looks at me and his pupils have dilated so there's no more ocean of blue. It's the only symptom I know of a hallucination. He hasn't had one since the morning of our wedding. It was a short one and we got it sorted out within a few minutes but this is worse.

"Katniss," his voice is sharp and cold. I'm reminded of steel. "Go,"

"What?" I don't understand. I want his arms around me, his hands in my hair and his voice in my ear.

"Run." He continues urgently. "Go to Haymitch." I stand up, wrenching my hand away from his. He stands up too, digging his fingernails into his palms. It scares me and so I turn and run. I only have my boots on when I hear him call my name out in rage. Without a coat, I race outside to Haymitch's house. I bang on the door and he answers it.

I don't wait for him to invite me in. I push past him and head for his new phone, my boots leaving puddles of snow on the wood floor.

"Katniss!" He cries. I ignore him. I'm not sure who to call first. My instinct is Gale because he's bigger than Peeta and he's got no problem with holding my husband to the ground until he's fine. But after this afternoon, I hesitate. "Invasion of privacy!" Haymitch stands in front of me. "What's going on?" He sounds angry with me.

"It's Peeta. He's having a bad hallucination." Haymitch's eyes widen. "Call Gale and tell him to come here now." I shove the phone into Haymitch's hands. I'm glad he's sober because I can't do this on my own. He begins dialling as I put my boots at the door. I lean against the wall, rubbing my arms, shaking, and crying silently. I'm praying to a God I don't believe in when I feel Haymitch pull me away from the wall and into his arms. It's not Peeta, but it's something solid and comforting – even if it does smell like coffee.

I don't have to hold back tears. Haymitch understands my fear about this. He rubs my back but he knows the only person I need right now is Peeta. And I can't have him.

"I'm meeting Gale at your place soon. Is that alright? I want you to stay here until I come back." He says it as nicely as he can. He lets go of me and starts putting on his coat. I stand back and watch him brave the cold. From the kitchen window, I can see him meet Gale as they both walk up to my house. The lights are on and everything looks normal but it's not.

I try to sit down and relax but I can't. The fear of Peeta getting worse is too much. I don't know what could've set it off. I mean, obviously the thing about Gale and our baby, but that can't have been the only thing. I want to know what the hallucination was. Something bad about me, I assume, but what?

I lay my hand on my stomach. It seems like forever ago that I finally accepted this and truly felt it was the right thing. How could it have only been this morning? Peeta had made me excited, but now I'm scared again. What if Peeta did get worse and I'd have to raise a baby by myself? What if Peeta was too dangerous to even hug his son or daughter?

I shudder at the thought. Maybe my mom would come back then. It wouldn't be an ideal situation but at least I'd have her back.

Finally, I can't take the stress of just waiting. I put my boots back on and head back. The door is unlocked which strikes me as odd. My first instinct would be to make sure he can't get away easily. I don't think too hard on it, though, since it's the only reason I can get back in. "It's real, Peeta!" Gale shouts and it sounds like he's struggling. I follow the sound of his voice to the den. Gale is holding Peeta's arms behind his back, pushing him against the wall. Haymitch stands in the doorway so there's no escape.

"So she's pregnant." Peeta confirms.

"Yes," Haymitch replies calmly but he's getting annoyed. It sounds like they've gone over that multiple times already.

"And it's his baby. Real or not real?" Peeta tries to squirm out of Gale's grip but Gale pushes him harder against the wall. So he's back to playing that game.

"Not real," he says with reluctance in his voice. Peeta detects it as quickly as I do.

"You're lying." He breathes heavily as if he's run a mile. Beads of sweat form on both their foreheads.

"No, he's not. The baby is yours. Trust me." Haymitch pitches in. It's almost too much for me to take. I start to turn and walk away when I hear Peeta say my name.

"Katniss," he says it so pleadingly that I turn back to them. It sounds as if his spell is over and he's sorry. The anger returns in his eyes when he sees my face. "You cheated on my!" He shouts, finally freeing himself from Gale's grip. He strides towards me, his nostrils flaring. I whimper and freeze. Thank God Haymitch is standing right in front of me. Peeta practically walks into his arms. Haymitch pushes him backwards so hard that Peeta falls to the ground. Gale turns him over onto his stomach. For a minute, they're both throwing punches and struggling. I don't get to see who ultimately wins because Haymitch gets in the way.

"I told you to stay at my house." The calm demeanour he used on Peeta has vanished and I'm left with Withdrawal Haymitch. "Go somewhere else. You're making it worse." He shoves me back as well, with a little more force than he probably intended. He shuts the door before he can see me fall. I stay sitting where I've landed and cry. No, not cry, sob. If I wanted this baby this morning, I don't anymore. It hasn't even grown fingernails and yet it's causing more trouble than it's worth.


	6. Explanations

I cry and I cry, hugging my legs to my chest. It seems like forever has gone by when the door to the den finally opens. I look up to see Gale shutting the door carefully behind him. He sees me looking at him with a tear-stained face.

"How are you?" He asks quietly. He doesn't want Peeta to hear him. I shrug. I'm not okay but it's nothing that Gale can fix. I look at him expectantly, waiting for the news I need to hear. "Peeta's getting there. Haymitch is talking to him right now. He said you're going to stay at his place overnight. We don't trust Peeta yet." He explains. I nod to show I understand.

A few minutes pass in silence while I muster up the strength I need to pack. Gale offers his hand for me to hold but I don't take it. I don't need Gale. Once I have pajamas and clothes for tomorrow, Gale takes me back to Haymitch's.

"Do you need anything else?" He asks. His voice sounds distant to me. I shake my head and crawl into the bed in the spare room. "I'll be downstairs if you need me." He shuts the light off for me.

After I hear him go downstairs, I turn on the lamp beside the bed. I rummage through my bag and findthe one thing that got me through the hallucinations: the pearl Peeta gave me in the Quarter Quell.

I hold it tightly in my palm. It's still as smooth and perfect as the day I got it. It's a comfort to me and reminds me of the two people I love most in the world: Peeta and Prim. I can't be with either of them right now and so I settle with the pearl to get me through the night. Despite my racing mind, I fall asleep quickly.

I'm asleep so deeply that I don't dream which is a good thing since Peeta's not there to make the nightmares go away.

xxx

I wake up with a start the next morning. The sun pokes through the lace curtains. It's been snowing all night but now everything is calm. I see Winnow's bags by the door and I figure Haymitch isn't planning on drinking anytime soon.

I hear him in his room next door. It sounds like he's punching something. He used to punch the walls whenever he wanted a drink, but he didn't want to keep fixing the holes. I lay in bed, trying not to think about anything.

Everything I've been through the past two days is too much to handle. I wonder if Gale went home or if he ended up crashing on the couch. I tell myself I should go see but my body doesn't react. I'm so absorbed in not thinking, that I don't realize Haymitch has stopped punching stuff. The bedroom door opens and he stands there, sweaty and scruffy.

"Hey, you're awake." He observes. I don't reply. "Come downstairs for breakfast. Winnow made eggs and bacon." He tells me. I sit up.

"How did you really know I was pregnant? I know Winnow didn't come to the Bakery yesterday." I point out. Hearing him say her name triggers the memory of our conversation yesterday. Haymitch sighs and leans against the door frame.

"Well, don't get mad at me. I'm just trying to be a good person. When your mother officially moved out, she asked me to keep an eye on you. That included having your doctor appointments forwarded to me. I've known since you have. Sorry," he looks sorry and I'm not that mad at him. "You must be really upset about last night." He says. I give him a look of confusion. "You're not giving me any snarky comments. Now, come for breakfast." He smile and I listen this time.

The smell of food hits me when I stand at the top of the stairs. I realize just how hungry I am, especially since Winnow made kipper just for me. She knows it's my favourite.

She serves me a large plate that I know I won't finish. Although I _am_ hungry, my stomach is still in knots and I don't want to throw up again. Haymitch eats his breakfast as if he's never seen food before. He's done everything long before I can finish the eggs.

"I'm going to go check on Peeta. This time, stay here sweetheart." He pleads with me. I nod solemnly. It's awful watching him leave to see my husband when I know I can't. Winnow busies herself with washing Haymitch's plate. I'm still eating slowly.

10 minutes pass. I'm done all I can eat and I wait patiently in the living room for Haymitch to come back. From my spot on the couch, I can see the door perfectly. 20 more minutes go by in silence. At long last, the doorknob turns. I stand up, ready to badger Haymitch with questions. But it's a blonde head that comes in first, followed by the scruffy man.

"Peeta," I murmur. He looks awful; his face is ghost-white and he has dark circles under his eyes. It looks like he didn't sleep all night and he probably didn't. He hears me say his name. I take a careful step forward. He turns around, away from me.

"I can't do it." I hear him tell Haymitch, who takes hold of his wrist and drags him back outside. I feel tears well up in my eyes. He can't even look at me now. I fall back onto the couch and cry tears I didn't know I had left after last night.

Another half hour later and Haymitch is back by himself. He stomps the snow off his boots. When he sees me, I can't tell if his look is sympathetic or pitiful.

"You can't go home yet, Katniss. Something really messed him up last night." He takes a seat beside me.

"What did he see last night? When it started. Did he tell you?" I ask. My voice is scratchy from crying.

"He saw you in the 75th Hunger Games telling him that the baby was Gale's. I think it's still one of his biggest fears: that you'll leave him. I stayed up till 3am this morning playing Real or Not Real with him." Haymitch leans forward, clasping his hands together. "He agrees that it's best if you stay here for a few more days. Sometimes he's absolutely fine but then he goes right back into panic mode."

So that explains how normal he seemed this morning yet he couldn't face me. I feel so guilty for inflicting this pain on him even though it's not my fault. It's the Capitols.

"Oh, and Gale brought you something." This catches my attention. Haymitch reaches into his coat pocket and brings out Peeta's scarf. I relax a bit and take it from Haymitch.

I lean against his shoulder, feeling the soft wool between my fingers. It's almost immediately that I fall asleep under Haymitch's arm. My dreams are simple and I swear it's because I have Peeta's scarf.

It's the only part of him I'm going to get too see for a few days. It's going to be a very, very long few days.


	7. Messages for Katniss

Haymitch lets me sleep past lunch, much to Winnow's displeasure who claims that I need every meal I can get if I want a healthy baby. I've always wondered what Haymitch does besides drink and sleep. He won't tell me explicitly what he does and where he goes, but he's gone all afternoon. Winnow says that he's running errands. And even though that's supposed to be her job, he's adamant that _he _needs to do them.

Dinner that night is silent except for the sounds of our cutlery and our chewing. We have fresh pasta that Annie sent us. Reap, her and Finnick's son, made the card that reads, "Merry Christmas from Reap." He's decorated it with glitter and stickers. I'm sure I'll come home to our own package and card.

Winnow offers to sleep on the couch so I can sleep in a real bed. Somewhere inside me, I know I should confront Haymitch about talking to my doctor, but I don't. I'm just looking for someone to blame for Peeta's hallucination because that makes it easier. Haymitch has done nothing but help. I sleep with the pearl and the scarf. I'm glad that the scarf still smells like Peeta. It's bittersweet.

By the next morning, I decide I should at least pretend to be happy. Winnow makes breakfast again but Haymitch doesn't go see Peeta or bring him over. I spend my morning talking with Winnow about the baby. I don't have much to tell her since all I know is that I _am_ pregnant. She's got a lot of advice because she was a nanny sometime during the Rebellion for the children in the Capitol. Her biggest advice is the same as Haymitch's: rest lots and stay off my feet.

By dinnertime, Haymitch still hasn't come back. It doesn't seem to bother Winnow at all. She says he's probably talking to someone or he's gone to the bar and he's drunk beyond belief. Either way, she's not concerned. We eat dinner without him but Winnow makes an extra plate for when he gets back. Afterwards, I insist that I do the dishes since I'm taking her bed.

I'm just starting to run the water when Haymitch bursts into the house. His face is red and snow clings to the scruff on his chin. He comes into the kitchen to see me washing dishes and Winnow relaxing at the table.

"What is she doing?" He asks Winnow. He looks at me. "What are you doing?" He's angry at me. I smile but he's not having any of it. "I promised Peeta I'd look after you until he's better." He points a finger accusingly at me as if I've done something wrong.

"Take a deep breath, Haymitch. She's fine," Winnow gives him a look. We both know it's the withdrawal. Winnow pours him some coffee and he chugs it down without milk or sugar or cream. He slams the mug back on the table; he's completely fine now.

"Alright, it's been a long day, but I have some messages for you." He points to me again but it's in a good way. I listen expectantly as he digs through his pockets. Winnow rolls her eyes. "Sorry, I didn't want to forget anything." He pulls out a slip of paper with my messages written messily on it.

"What a man thing to do." Winnow sighs. "Write it all down so he doesn't _have_ to remember _anything_." It's Haymitch's turn to roll his eyes.

"Well, we can't all be perfect husbands like Peeta." It's a long-standing inside joke of Haymitch and Winnow's because they truly believe Peeta is the perfect husband. He glances at me. "Sorry," he mumbles. Winnow and Haymitch aren't married or even engaged, but most people consider them husband and wife. The two of them included.

"First things first, your doctor called while I was at your place and I've set up a doctor's appointment for you for 2 weeks from now. Don't worry; your insane husband will be sane enough to go with you." He takes a pencil and scratches this off the paper.

"Thank you, for that." I tell him genuinely. But there's more for him to say.

"Speaking of husbands, Gale wants the phone number of the caterer who did your wedding. Because whether you like it or not – and I know you don't – he's got his own wedding to plan now." I do my best to keep any emotions from my face. I nod in silence. Besides, my mother and Peeta did all the food and I know Peeta won't agree to help. Haymitch crosses that off the list as well.

"Annie and Reap are coming here in about 3 days. They'll be staying with Gale's mother while they're here." That gets crossed off.

"3 days? I only have 3 days to come up with a welcome meal for them?" Winnow panics. She swats Haymitch's stomach in punishment for delaying this message. We all know Winnow can cook anything from nothing and still make it taste amazing. She has nothing to worry about.

"Last thing before someone interrupts me again," he looks pointedly at Winnow. "Katniss, Peeta took a phone message for you today. It was from your mother. She wants you to call her as soon as possible." He says seriously, giving me a different slip of paper with seven digits on it. My heart thumps wildly in my chest. Winnow stands up slowly.

"We'll give you some privacy while you call." She takes Haymitch's hand and pulls him towards the living room. I'm suddenly struck with every horrible scenario my mother could be calling about. I dial the number slowly and with shaking hands. It only rings once.

"Hello?" It's my mom's voice alright. But it sounds older; it sounds gray and wrinkled.

"Hi, mom," I say, my voice threatening to give away my emotions.

"Katniss! Oh honey, it's so good to hear your voice. Listen, I can't talk long, but I've made arrangements to come visit next week. Peeta told me the good news and I'm so happy for the two of you! I've got news to tell you as well but you'll have to wait until I come." She's talking quickly but she sounds so sincere. "I'll see you soon." She says.

"Bye, mom," I hang up the phone, my whole body trembling. Mostly because I can't believe Peeta would tell her when I told him not to. But also because I haven't seen her in years. I'm a little afraid to.

Without telling Winnow and Haymitch what happened, I head upstairs to the bathroom. I need a shower; something to take my mind off everything. The water trickles down my back and through my hair. It's not exactly warm, but I don't care. The cold is numbing. I wash my hair, wishing I had Peeta to do it for me. He never uses enough conditioner, but I miss his touch.

When I get out and change into my pajamas, Haymitch knocks on the door. I open it, expecting to be asked about the phone call. The question never comes.

"I just got back from your place. You can go home tomorrow. Peeta's fine," I'm so excited, and happy, and relieved that I hug Haymitch as hard as I can. He staggers backwards but holds onto me as well.

I don't need the pearl_ or_ the scarf tonight. Just the thought of seeing Peeta again makes my dreams good. I must admit, there's only so long I can be apart from him now.

**A/N **

**Thank you all so much for the amazing reviews. I know you all want me to update as soon as possible, but be patient. It means a lot to me that you are reading and reviewing!**


	8. I Love You

The next morning can't come fast enough. I wake up and braid my hair. It's easy because of how clean it is. Winnow leaves eggs and toast for me. She's gone home for a bit. I have a sneaking suspicion that Haymitch had her stay here just to make sure I was okay while he went out all day. He's here this morning, making sure I eat and helping me pack what little belongings I'd brought with me.

"I've already been to see him this morning." He tells me. I'm amazed that he's been awake early enough to do that. It must show on my face. "I promised your mother _and_ Peeta that I would look after you. I keep my promises." He informs me. I'm too anxious to be with Peeta to complain that I can look after myself.

Once I've brushed my teeth, I wrap Peeta's scarf around my neck and get my coat and boots on. Haymitch agrees to carry my bag. We set out towards my house and husband. Luckily, the snow is deep but crisp. My boots crunch over-top of it. The sky is blue and the sun is blinding.

I can see the house now. The door opens and there's Peeta wearing just his boots and sweater. He's got no coat and obviously no scarf. He doesn't' make a move towards us; he just stands on the front porch. That worries me, like he's scared to approach me. I hesitate in walking and Haymitch notices.

"Just keep going. Don't leave him." He mutters. I speed up a little. I'm eager to be in Peeta's arms again even if he's not. By the time we get to the walkway, I'm running at him. I run faster when I see him hold his arms out for me, a smile lighting across his face. I crash into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He rubs my back calmly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he whispers in my ear. But I'm not blaming him; I'm blaming myself for giving him any reason to think I would leave him. I pull away so I can look at his face. It's pale and weak.

"No, don't be sorry. I love you and I love our baby and I love that this is where we are." I feel a lump growing in my throat. Tears prick my eyes. "I will always love you." I kiss him before he can object.

This kiss is more than just a kiss for him and me. It's everything we've never said to each other; all the sorry's, I love you's, and thank you's. I put everything into that kiss. We go on kissing for a few minutes until Haymitch clears his throat and we pull away. Except we stay together in an embrace. I can feel Peeta playing with my braid again and I know he's back to his old self.

"Just wanted to let you know that I'll be right up the street if you need me. Stay safe, the both of you." He says, putting my stuff right inside the door for me.

"Thanks for everything, Haymitch." I mean it more than he knows. He just nods in acknowledgement and walks away.

"How's my baby?" Peeta asks, turning my attention back to him.

"Forever yours," I assure him. It doesn't matter if he's talking about me or the baby. My response holds true for both. We kiss again. Peeta hoists me into the air and walks back into the house, his lips still pressed against mine. He sets me down. I can tell he hasn't eaten or slept much. He's weak, that's for sure.

"I'll make you some tea." I offer and we go to the kitchen together. I start boiling water while he lies down on the couch. "What else do you need?" I ask gently. I'll do anything for him to get better. He shrugs. I hate that he's used all his energy on hugging and kissing me. "Please sleep," I beg. He tries to sit up but I hold him back. He needs to get better. He _needs_ to.

"You've… 'done it' with Gale. Real or not real?" He asks, his voice quivering. He looks much worse than he did two days ago.

"Not real Peeta. That's never real." I assure him, kissing his forehead and sweeping his blonde hair out of his eyes.

"You hate this game. Real or not real?" I think he's serious, but he smiles after.

"100% real, Peeta." I smile back. In a few minutes he's asleep. I'll wake him up when lunch is ready. I'm reminded of our first Hunger Games when I looked after his leg. I would help heal Peeta in a heart-beat even though I'm not a Healer.

xxx

He slowly gets back to normal as I take care of him. I make every meal and make him eat everything I put on his plate. A few times he freaks out because I'm making him do something he doesn't want to do. My heart pounds abnormally loud in my ears when this happens. I don't want to leave Peeta again.

When he's feeling fine and awake, I sit with him, his arms wrapped around my waist. He gets in the habit of rubbing my stomach. Peeta will be the best dad there is even if he still gets the odd hallucinations. I make sure the topic of Gale never comes up. It's just me, Peeta, and our baby. I don't tell him about my mother coming because I'm still angry he told her and I don't want a fight right now. I do, however, tell him about my check-up at the doctor's and when Annie and Reap will be coming. I neglect to mention where they will be staying.

Peeta apologizes over and over again. He's been miserable here by himself. He's broken a few plates out of anger at me and frustration at himself. I kiss him, tell him it's fine and I love him. There's no doubt in his eyes when he tells me he believes me.

By the time we are bundling ourselves up to go meet Annie and Reap at the train station, I have the old Peeta back. My baker; my painter; my Peeta.


	9. Annie and Reap

Annie steps from the train, a black suitcase in one hand, 4-year-old Reap in the other. He's the spitting image of his father and he's dressed smartly in a navy blue jacket and matching toque. Annie looks great too. Her brown hair isn't tied up and she wears a green jacket like her son's. Gale and his mother rush to help her with the luggage. Annie gives them both a hug. Gale gives Reap a high-five because even at 4, he's 'too cool for hugs.'

"Katniss! Peeta!" She sees us and smiles. I smile back. She hurries to hug us too. "It's so good to see you!" She gushes, ruffling Peeta's blonde hair.

"It's good to see you too, Annie. And Reap," Peeta says, picking up the small boy and tickling him. The last time we saw them, Reap was just learning how to talk and Annie was just finishing her therapy. Reap laughs and screams for Peeta to stop. Peeta sets him down and laughs. I can picture him doing this with our kids someday.

Annie goes home with Gale and Hazelle. Reap says goodbye reluctantly to Peeta. I watch as they start back towards Gale's. Annie turns around and calls out to us.

"Dinner at Haymitch and Winnow's, tomorrow at 5!" She shouts. I give her a thumbs-up to show that we hear her and we'll be there. Peeta holds my hand and we walk back home. He stops at the Bakery to get some ingredients for cake. He'll help Winnow out with dessert. Any stress from the past few days vanishes the longer he bakes. After, he's so happy that he makes me sit down and he draws me in one of his sketchbooks. My expressions is happily relieves and content with life. Peeta draws it perfectly.

xxx

Peeta goes back to the Bakery the next day until 4. He comes home, showers with me, and then we start off towards Haymitch's. When we get there, Winnow is cooking while Hazelle tries to help; Gale and Haymitch sit together in the living room while Annie sets Reap up to watch a movie. Posy and Vick, Gale's youngest brother and sister, are getting on their coats and boots.

Peeta brings the cake into the kitchen. Winnow kisses his cheek in gratitude. She doesn't bother him too much about how he's feeling or why he looks so thin. I stay in the doorway as he shakes Hazelle's hand. There's no way I'm going to talk to Gale without Peeta with me.

Haymitch gets up when we enter the living room. He hands Peeta a beer.

"I'm only allowed to drink 'socially' now." He says. Peeta nods. He's not much of a drinker. "Sorry, none for miss pregnant." He nudges me jokingly and then sits back beside Gale. Reap notices Peeta and he jumps up to hug him. Annie gives up on the movie for him. He'll be attached at the hip to Peeta anyway. Peeta holds his hand as Reap runs to show him his toys. I notice Peeta set his beer on the coffee table and never pick it up.

I sit with Annie and half-listen to the conversation. I'm watching Peeta and Reap. My reassurance about having kids comes back. It isn't long before Winnow announces that its dinner time. We crowd into the dining room. Winnow and Haymitch sit at the heads and then clockwise from Winnow it goes Annie, Reap, Peeta, me, Haymitch, Gale, Vick, Posy, and Hazelle.

The food is delicious and I put extra helpings in front of Peeta. He tries to do the same for me. I hold Peeta's hand under the table. I feel like a teenager trying to hide how in love we are. Annie tells everyone about life in District 4. Reap tells Peeta stories about the sea and fishing trips he's gone on with his Uncle. Peeta listens attentively.

Then Annie asks Gale about District 2. As he's explaining his engagement and project, Peeta's hand tightens un-comfortingly around mine. I try to pull away but his grip is too tight.

"Peeta," I whisper warningly. I look at him. He's staring angrily at Gale. I try to stay calm. This can't be happening right now. Not in front of everyone, not in front of Reap who considers Peeta his new best friend. Just as Peeta starts digging his nails into my skin, Annie speaks.

"I heard about the baby, Katniss."

"It's Peeta's!" I cry in a panic, just wanting him to relax. His grip slackens and I pull my hand away. I rub it, sure I'll have bruises. Everyone's looking at me. "Sorry," I mutter. Peeta puts his hand on my shoulder. I flinch away. Everyone sees this and I stand up. "I'll be back." I walk out, holding in my tears until I make it upstairs.

I'm shaking as I sit down on the edge of the bed. I hear a thud and cries of anger. I hear Haymitch tell Gale to sit down. Suddenly, I'm sobbing. I look up to see Peeta and Haymitch watching me. Haymitch comes to sit beside me, rocking me back and forth.

"It's okay, Katniss. He's fine, he's fine." I look at Peeta who looks so hurt and guilty. He's got tears in his own eyes.

"I didn't do it on purpose, Katniss. I swear," He says quietly. I shake my head.

"I know, Peeta. But I can't stand the fear anymore." I say between sobs that wrack my whole body. "I'm calling Dr. Aurelius when we get home. You need more treatment." I decide right then. Peeta nods solemnly and turns on his heel to go downstairs. I've hurt him, I know, but it's the right thing to do. Haymitch lets me cry.

"Are you okay?" He asks. I nod, wiping my tears. He stands and I follow him to the door.

"Switch places with me, please?" I ask. I don't think Peeta wants me to sit beside him.

"You can switch with Winnow. I don't think Peeta will appreciate you sitting beside Gale." He reasons. I nod. We head back down. Annie and Winnow have got everyone talking again. Gale fumes after being yelled at. Haymitch whispers to Winnow who smiles. She gets up, pretending to get more wine from the kitchen.

I take her now empty seat. No one says anything but I know they all notice. I don't eat anything else. I glance at Peeta. He's doing his best to finish what I've put on his plate but I can tell he's lost his appetite to the guilt.

"Is everyone ready for dessert?" Winnow comes back in with Peeta's cake. I feel miserable.

xxx

We walk home in silence. We finished the visit with coffee and tea in the living room. I sat between Haymitch and Posy on the couch. Peeta sat with Reap on his lap in an armchair. The poor boy fell asleep pretty quickly after dinner. It should have been nice but it was tense.

Now, I don't hold Peeta's hand like I usually do. I follow through with calling Dr. Aurelius. His number is still listed by the phone. I pick it up with shaking hands. Peeta collapses onto the couch.

"You've reached Dr. Aurelius' office, may I take a message?" It's his secretary. Of course.

"This is Katniss Mellark. I need to speak with Aurelius right away." My voice shakes. I'm not sure if it's because I sound so scared or the secretary recognizes my name, but she dispatches me straight to Aurelius. I wait a minute until he answers.

"Katniss, what's going on?" He sounds concerned. "Is it the baby?" He asks. I don't even questions why he knows. Peeta is my main concern.

"It's about Peeta." I pause. "I think he needs treatment again." I explain about the fits he's had recently. Dr. Aurelius thinks for a minute.

"I'll see what I can do, Katniss. It doesn't sound too bad, but if you're really scared, I'll come down and do a few sessions with him." I exhale deeply.

"Thank you." I say goodbye and hang up. I pass by Peeta, now asleep on the couch. I don't wake him up. I just go upstairs and try my best to fall asleep.

**A/N **

**In response to Darcy in the reviews: you've got to take this in moderation :) **


	10. Treatment Starts

I dream that I'm back in the Games. This time, instead of Rue and Peeta, it's Prim and Gale. We walk through rocky terrain and we don't find any water or game to shoot. Prim gets so weak that Gale offers to carry her. In my dream, I'm still pregnant and it slows me down more than it should. Suddenly, we're surrounded by Tracker Jackers. I start to run, Gale following close behind me with Prim.

I get stung a bunch of times. The venom plays tricks on my mind. We run until we can't breathe anymore and the venom makes us fall. Everything is a blur but I can still see Gale and… where's Prim? I try to stand but I can't.

"Where's Prim?" I cry to Gale. He mumbles something about leaving her, but it's hard to tell because he got stung on the lip. I crawl back the way we came and I do see Prim lying on the hard ground. She's passed out from the venom and I think she'll be okay if I can just get to her. Then the next worse thing happens. I hear a snuffling coming from behind a rock. A wild pig comes out, sniffing out my sister. I reach back to load an arrow but I have none left. I throw my bow and empty quiver at the pig. It changes course towards me.

The venom is too much. I attempt to wrestle with it, but it's no use. Just as I'm about to lose consciousness, two more wild pigs find Prim.

"Nooo!" I shout. I feel hands shaking me and I sit upright. My face is wet with tears. I'm back in my bedroom; Peeta is at my side, smoothing down my hair. "Prim… Gale left… Tracker Jackers…" I mutter incoherently.

"Shh, shh, it was just a dream. You're okay now. I promise." Peeta kisses my forehead even though it's sweaty. I take deep breaths, still shaken from the nightmare. I lay back down as Peeta whispers to me. "Better now?" He asks. I nod because I'm scared I'll start crying if I speak. He gets up to leave but I hold his hand and pull him back.

"No wait! I'm sorry about dinner. I thought you were going to hurt me again and I panicked." I do start to cry now. Peeta gently wipes my tears away. "I just want you to be okay. I don't want to stay at Haymitch's again without you." Peeta nods.

"I know. I was scared last night too. I don't want to hurt you and I know I did. I just don't want to lose you. You mean too much to me." He kisses my cheek this time.

"I want you to sleep here tonight. Don't go back to the couch." I say. He crawls into bed beside me. I snuggle into him. I've missed this in the past few days. He holds me close to him, making me hope he'll never let go. I really hope Dr. Aurelius can fix everything. Peeta doesn't deserve to suffer through the hallucinations. Nobody does.

Xxx

The next morning, Peeta heads to work early. I'm glad, in a way that we get to spend today apart. We both need a cool-down. Although I know Peeta would forbid me to in my condition, I go out hunting. It's been too long since I've felt the calm sensation of waiting for a deer or rabbit to scamper by. I've missed being out here.

The hunting takes my mind off my nightmare and Peeta's up-coming sessions with Dr. Aurelius. It doesn't take my mind off my mother's visit. I'm not sure what day she'll be coming, but it should be soon. I'm nervous to see her again, no matter how much I try to convince myself that I don't care. There are so many thoughts whirling around in my head, that I don't catch anything. I pick some strawberries to bring home but that's it.

It's only 2 o'clock when I get home but there's a note taped to the door.

"Katniss,

I've taken Peeta to the Hospital for some therapy. I'll have him back at 4.

~Dr. Aurelius"

I rip the paper off the door and throw it into the garbage can once I get inside. I get out the last of our ham and start planning dinner. I want it to be ready for when he gets home since he'll want to eat and then go to bed. These sessions are emotionally draining for him. As much as I would want to ask him how it went, I know he would never answer me. It wasn't something for my ears.

Dinner's all set on the table when I hear the front door open. I hurry to the sound of their voices. Peeta looks the same as before, maybe a little more fatigued. He doesn't react when he sees me which I take as a good sign. Aurelius says goodbye to him and smiles at me. He doesn't tell me if he's made any progress or if there's any progress to be made. I lead the way to the kitchen where Peeta serves himself one small piece of ham.

"Peeta, have some salad, too." I encourage. He shakes his head. "Did it go alright today?" I ask gently.

"I had 3 hallucinations in the course of one hour." He blurts out. I gasp. "They were all about the 74th Hunger Games when I was with the Careers." He goes on. I'm surprised he's telling me this, especially since it has nothing to do with me. "I thought Gale was there and he killed everyone in the arena except for you and me. And then these mutts came and you shot Gale." He sounds on the verge of crying.

"That wasn't Gale, it was Cato." I try to help.

"I know," is his only reply. We eat the rest of the meal in silence. Peeta does go to bed right after dinner but he tosses and turns. It kills me to think I'm putting him through this therapy and it's hurting him. The phone rings and I hurry to pick it up so it doesn't wake Peeta up if he's asleep.

"Hello," I say breathlessly.

"Oh, Katniss, it's me." My mother. I try not to curse out loud. I don't have the energy to deal with her and Peeta today. And frankly, I'd rather worry about Peeta than her. "I just wanted to let you know that I'll be in District 12 tomorrow at 10am." She says and it sounds like she's shouting. It's like she's miles away from the receiver.

"Okay," I don't say goodbye before I hang up. I just rub my temples. I know I should want my mom here with me, telling me what to do for the morning sickness that plagued me yet again today. But I can't help thinking that she'll be in the way. I decide not to tell Peeta when she's coming. He'll know when she gets here.

When I finally crawl into bed that night, Peeta tells me one last thing.

"Dr. Aurelius said I only need one more session. If my hallucinations aren't negative towards you, then I'm cured." And then he starts crying. I can't remember the last time I heard Peeta cry or if there ever was one. He's scared that he won't be cured. He's scared for himself and for me. I wrap him into a hug and hold him tight. For all the times he's been there for me, I have to be there for him now.

"You'll be fine, Peeta. And if you aren't," I don't even want to think about it, but I've already starting saying it. "Then you'll just have more treatment. You're going to be okay." And as sure as I sound out loud, I sound just as unsure in my head.


	11. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

**The next chapter is coming. There are still ideas swirling around in my brain. Peeta is still my life, Katniss is still a close second. Don't worry; the baby is still Peeta's. It's coming. I promise.**

**I wish I could say the same about school. That it was **_**coming**_**. However, it's here. I've got four classes this semester. And they are all language classes. So I'm truly very sorry if I get home and my thoughts have been exhausted. We blame the school curriculum for that one. **

**I love you all for reviewing such pleasant thoughts and things that keep my confidence up. I'm writing this for you guys. I'm not going to lie, I truly thought this would be a complete fail. But I have more than 30 reviews and only 10 chapters. I'd like to call this a success, if I may.**

**Again, sorry. I'm still here. I'm still writing. I'm still going crazy about the Hunger Games. Now then, who wants to go to the movie premiere with me? Just kidding, but that would be amazing! Sorry, thanks, adios!**

**~Hillary Izzy Blair**


	12. The Visit From Her Mother

Again this morning, Peeta goes to the Bakery early. He's gone when I wake up. Just the better; he won't be here when my mother gets here. I do find it disappointing that I won't get to wish him good luck in his treatment. I know somewhere inside of me that he'll be fine. But I'm still worried. By the time 10 o'clock comes, I'm trying my hardest to stay calm. Otherwise my stomach freaks out and I'll throw up… again.

At the train station, I wait patiently for the very late train to pull in. After 20 minutes, I'm just about to walk back home. As I'm turning away though, I hear the horn of the train blast. My breathing becomes quick and shallow. I can't believe I'm nervous to see my mom. Maybe I'm more nervous for her to see me. I've changed a lot since we last saw each other face to face.

The train screeches to a stop and I turn back. A few families straggle out. Ever since the Capitol fell, traveling is not only easy but normal. Other people have done what Gale did: they found work in other districts and are now home for the holidays. It seems like she's the last one to get off. Her hair is still long but turning gray at the temples. Her face has obviously aged. She's seen things beyond her years – although I guess so have I.

"Katniss," she doesn't say it very loudly but her voice carries across the mostly quiet winter morning. Tears threaten to fall when I hear her voice. I choke back sobs as she hurries towards me. I find myself in her arms, my face buried in the ruffled collar of her old coat. I'm taken back to a time when I was younger and she would hold me close when I'd stubbed my toe or a boy was teasing me in school. It was a time when I had my father and Prim with me; when the math homework was the most confusing thing.

"Mom," I cry as she holds me tighter. I've always marvelled at my mother's strength, both physical and emotional. She pulls away to look at me, clasping my face in her hands. She has tears in her sparkling blue eyes. I wonder why I was so hesitant to have her come. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

"Oh Katniss. My beautiful Katniss." She hugs me again quickly. When she lets go, I wish she would keep holding me like she did when I was little. I haven't gotten a break from this emotional roller coaster until now. She drags her suitcase in the snow as we walk back to my and Peeta's house. Now I feel guilty about not telling him about my mother visiting.

"I'm going to be a grandmother!" She gushes. "I hardly got a chance to say congratulations on the phone! This is going to be great for you and Peeta." I've never known my mother to be this talkative. I let her ramble because I don't have much to say. I'm not about to scare her with the story of Peeta's living nightmare

By the time we arrive at the house and get all her stuff in, she's run out of things to say. She also notices Peeta's absence.

"Is he at the Bakery?" She asks curiously. I nod. It's a safe answer since he probably is. There wasn't a note from Dr. Aurelius on the door when we got back. I assume he'll be at the Hospital in the afternoon. I set a kettle on to make tea or hot chocolate. No coffee – not since Haymitch lives off it now. I can't stand the smell anymore.

"Mom, if you don't mind my asking," I start and she nods to let me know it's okay to continue. "Why did you decide to come back after all these years? You couldn't have visited earlier?" It sounds selfish. We both know it held too many memories of our old life. Except she's here now. My mother looks at her feet.

"Well, Katniss, this isn't really a visit." I don't understand. "You see, Haymitch called me and told me to call you. I did and Peeta told me everything. It took that news – that new happy memory – to get me to come to my senses. I couldn't abandon my own baby anymore." The tears are back in both our eyes. "I organized everything with Haymitch and Winnow. I'm going to live next door so I can be close to you. I'm also going to be training new Healers. I want to be here for you Katniss. I'm sorry I wasn't before. I've realized my mistake. I'm here for you." A tear rolls down her cheek and she looks beautiful right now.

I reach other to hug her and she sobs tears of joy and relief. I haven't entirely forgiven her for all these years, but she's my mother and I need her. I need her so much.

Xxx

It's late when Peeta comes home. My mother has fallen asleep in the spare bedroom. It's been a long day for the both of us, but I make myself stay awake to talk to Peeta. The front door opens and shuts with a soft click. There are no voices and I guess that Dr. Aurelius didn't stay to chat.

I creep around the corner and see him, sitting on the bench where we keep our bags and the keys to the house and Bakery. He looks stunned as if someone's just hit him in the head. I can't tell if he's okay or not.

"Peeta?" I venture, becoming more anxious with each second. He jumps at the sound of my voice.

"Katniss," he breathes. I wait with bated breath for him to tell me something. "Your mother's here." Is all he says. I frown.

"How did you –?" he points to her coat and boots. "Listen Peeta, she's going to live next door. I only just found out today. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you she was coming at all. You had enough on your plate." I apologize. He holds a hand out to me to silence me.

"It's fine Katniss. That's good news that she's moving here." He says.

"Peeta, do you have good news?" I ask, trying not to push the wrong button. He sighs.

"I'd rather talk about it tomorrow." He gets up, and takes my hand. I blink back tears as we go upstairs. He doesn't even want dinner even though I saved some for him. I cry as I brush my teeth and hair. I cry as we put our pyjamas on. In bed, I cry myself to sleep in Peeta's arms. He's holding me but doing nothing to comfort me. It must be very bad news.

Xxx

My mother knocks on my door to get me to wake up.

"Come down for breakfast!" She says. I look beside me to find Peeta has slipped out of bed. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I have a rats nest in my hair and my eyes are red and puffy. Before I go downstairs, I brush my hair and splash cold water on my face. Peeta and my mother are at the table. Peeta's buttering toast and he still looks rather out of it.

"Good morning," I say, sitting down beside Peeta. "It_ is_ good, isn't it?" I ask, putting my hand on his arm.

"You should come to the Bakery with me today." He doesn't answer me again and it's driving me crazy. I know better than to force an answer from him though.

"Oh, um, sure," I reply. My mother gives me a look but I ignore her. I do my best to swallow the toast Peeta gives me but it sticks to the roof of my mouth like cement.

"Katniss, I move in next door today. If you've got nothing else to do, maybe you and Peeta could help me." Mom suggests. I nod but I'm not convinced I'll go. Peeta finishes eating first and he's dressed already so he gives me a chance to get ready. Mom offers to clean up so Peeta and I can get going.

We go towards the Bakery but Peeta makes a different turn as he leads me towards where the Justice Building used to be. Now it's mostly just an empty field, but there's a smaller building in the left corner of the lot. It's mainly just a place for prayers. Anyone can sit on the marble benches and think of the ones they lost in the Rebellion or thank whoever for the ones that are still alive. I've only been in there once before. Peeta holds the door for me and we take a seat in the back row of benches. Peeta sighs.

"Sorry I was home so late." He apologizes.

"Its fine," my voice struggles to stay calm.

"Yesterday, I spent four hours having the same hallucination." I gulp. Here it comes.

"Four hours? That's a long time." I say, rubbing his back slowly. I don't ask him what it was about. If he wants me to know, he'll tell me in his own time.

"It was about you." He pauses and my stomach clenches. He's not cured yet, I know it. When he starts to talk again, he almost can't because he's crying. "You had the baby already and for an hour, I was the happiest man alive. But then…" he has to stop again and take a deep breath. "But then I thought that something had gone wrong and I'd lost you _and _the baby." He sobs and I hold him. No wonder he was so quiet last night. It's the most traumatizing thing for him.

"Katniss," he tries to compose himself.

"Yeah, Peeta,"

"I'm cured." And even through the pain of repeating yesterday's nightmare, Peeta smiles. And I smile too.

**Author's Note**

**Here it is: long and… long. You guys deserve more writing and I apologize for not making it happen. You guys rock, don't ever change!**


	13. I Hate Him

The next week is pretty easy compared to the Hell we've been living. Apparently someone's told Haymitch about Peeta's recovery because he has Winnow send us flowers. We put them in my mother's house since it's still very empty. We go shopping for furniture and fabric one day so she can make curtains and tablecloths. Peeta makes me help him pick out stuff for the baby's room. We can't pick much because we don't know if it's a boy or girl yet.

I'm happy with my life. I have my mother and Peeta with me. Gale leaves us alone. Posy is the one who brings the strawberry tarts that Hazelle made for mom. In Annie's last days in 12 we go out to lunch a lot and talk. It's been a long time since I've been able to 'just talk.' Annie gives me tips on how to get rid of stretch marks and reduce the swelling in my heels that I'm sure to get. It's strange to think that my body won't be – isn't right now – my own. While we eat, Peeta takes Reap to the park and wears him out. At first, Gale was enlisted this job, but Reap thinks Peeta is more fun and it's probably true. He's too good with kids for his own good.

I'm in such an incredibly good mood that I forget to be nervous about my first check-up at the Doctor's. It's a good thing Peeta's better and my mother's back because they both remind me the day before. Peeta tells me at dinner, completely serious about it.

"I'll be right beside you the whole time." He says. I smile. He's acting like I'm going to have the baby tomorrow.

"It'll be fine." I reassure him. "You don't even have to come. You can stay at the Bakery if you want." I suggest but he shakes his head.

"I'm not missing this if I can help it." I lean over and kiss him. "What was that for?"

"For always knowing what to say to me." I explain. After dinner, mom calls to ask if we need a ride there. I tell her no even though I know she just wants an excuse to come. But she's still no 100% forgiven. Besides, this is my and Peeta's moment, not hers. Peeta kisses me goodnight and rests his hand on my stomach as he falls asleep. I lay my hand against his.

Xxx

The appointment isn't till after lunch. Annie is leaving this morning. I don't want her to leave just yet. It's been nice having someone to talk to about pregnancy that isn't my mother. Everyone is at the train station that morning. Well, everyone but Gale. I don't even notice his absence at first. It's not until Peeta asks Hazelle where he is, that I do a double-take.

"Wedding plans," Hazelle beams. "He said good bye to them at the house. Tink left him a list of things to do while he's here." Already, I don't like Tink. Gale obviously does if he's agreeing to plan a wedding for her. It's not the Gale I once knew, that's for sure. Peeta only nods at the news. He's probably thinking the same thing I am.

"Bye Katniss," I'm swallowed in a hug from Annie. I count it as a blessing that she visited. "You'll be a great mother." She repeats Peeta's line about that. "Just remember, nothing you do for the safety of your child is wrong. Nothing." I know she's thinking of Finnick. True enough, as she pulls away, she's wiping away tears.

"Thank you Annie. For everything," I say, giving her another quick hug. We both look to see Peeta holding Reap in his arms so they're at eye level. Reap is trying to say goodbye to his new best friend, but his tears keep getting in the way. Peeta rubs his back and lets him talk. He leans his forehead against Reap's and whispers to him. I can't hear what he says but it makes Reap laugh. That makes Peeta smile. He tickles Reap, making the 4-year-old laugh even harder.

Peeta sets him down so they can board the train. Annie takes her son's hand but they only make it to the steps before Reap is screaming for "Eeta!" My husband jogs over and kneels down in the snow. Reap flings his arms around Peeta's neck. When Annie tells Reap they have to go, Peeta leans in to whisper one last thing to Reap. The little boy nods, smiles, and follows Annie onto the train. Suddenly, Reap's head is poking out the train window.

"Bye Eeta!" I'll miss you!" He calls, waving as hard as he can. Peeta waves back until we can't see or hear Reap anymore. I turn to Peeta.

"What did you say to him?" I ask suspiciously. Peeta shrugs.

"Just some secrets." He winks at me and I'm still confused. "Don't worry about it." He says as we walk back home. Except I'm not worried. I'm wondering to myself what I've done to deserve him.

Xxx

Peeta goes to the Bakery to finish the orders as I take my time making an early lunch. There's really nothing for me to do until the check-up so I decide to go for a walk. I pass the Bakery where Peeta deals with customers, a smile plastered on his face the whole time. I continue down the street until I'm at Haymitch's. Might as well, I think.

The door opens before I can knock. I take a step back at what – or rather who – I see. Gale is just about to leave.

"Katniss," he sounds more surprised than I feel if that's possible. We stand in silence, just looking at each other. I want to turn and run away but my feet won't cooperate. "How-how's Peeta?" He asks.

"Good. Great. He's perfect." I get a little defensive about Peeta because I don't want Gale to criticize him again.

"And your mother? Is she moved in okay?" The small talk is getting on my nerves. I glare at him.

"You would know if you ever visited her." Just because I can't stand him doesn't mean he can ignore my mom. He sighs and rubs his face.

"I was trying to give you space, okay? You needed it." That answer actually makes sense coming from Gale. I can't argue with that, so instead, I just stand there. Gale reaches forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch makes me come to my senses. My hand reaches out to slap him. The look of shock on Gale's face is mirrored in my own. I finally find the ability to move and I take off, down the porch steps.

"Katniss!" Gale calls, but I keep moving. I don't want to see him ever again. "Wait! I don't want to lose you again!" This makes me stop. I whirl around, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. That's supposed to be Peeta's fear, not Gale's.

"How dare you?" I say, my teeth clenched. "You know what you did to me and my family. You know why you lost me the first time and you know why you're losing me again!" I glare at him, my hands shaking in anger.

"That was before, though. Why can't you just let it go?" He asks. His anger is beginning to show. He can only be nice for so long.

"You killed my sister!" I scream at him. "It's your fault she's gone, it's your fault my mother abandoned me, and it's your fault that Peeta had those hallucinations!" I sob now. I can't admit it's his fault directly to me. But a guilt trip is what he needs right now. He doesn't say anything at first. He knows I'm wrong, but in a way, I'm right.

"Here," he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope. He gives it to me, passing it from one shaking hand to another. And then he walks away; simple. It's the easiest thing in the world for him to walk away from his problems. I hate him for it.

When he's out of sight, I look down at the envelope. There's no name or address on the front. I open it carefully, taking my time in the cold wind. The paper is soft and Gale's messy scrawl has written my name and Peeta's at the top. Underneath that is neat handwriting done by a delicate hand.

"You are invited to the marriage of Gale Hawthorne and Tink Weathers." It reads. Below, a date, time, and place are listed. He's really going through with this then. And he apparently finds it appropriate to invite Peeta and me.

I fold the wedding invitation in half and then again. When I unfold it, there are 4 creases in it. I tear along these creases until there are 4 even pieces in my hand. The 4 pieces quickly become confetti as I rip it up. I hate Gale. I hate what he's doing; I hate what he's done. I'm not going to some stupid wedding of his. Not after what he's done to me. Because although I have my mother here to stay, and Peeta is officially cured, I don't have Prim.

Because of Gale, I will never get my sister back. And _that_ is entirely his fault.


	14. Happy for Once

"Katniss?" It's Peeta's voice that reaches my ears across the wind. I make sure my eyes are dry before I turn to face him. He's left the Bakery for the day. "Are you…ready?" He sounds a bit suspicious although I would be too. I check my watch. We have 15 minutes to get to the doctor's.

"Yeah, I'm ready." He walks over to where I am, giving me a quick kiss. He gives me a funny look. My eyes are probably still a bit red. I'm not going to tell him anything though. It's selfish, but I'm going to let him worry if I have to.

"What's all this?" He asks, looking at our feet where my wedding invitation confetti starts to blow away. He leans down to pick up a piece. Only the capitol "G" on Gale's name is visible. I shrug, taking his hand in mine.

"We should go, I don't wanna be late." That's the biggest lie I've told in a while and he knows it. He knows I'd rather be at home. He knows I'm still nervous about everything to do with our baby. But he doesn't show he's suspicious or worried about me.

"Okay, let's go," he starts walking and I stick to his side like glue. My heart is pounding from what I've said to Gale and what he's said and done to me. This can't be good for my blood pressure. Peeta talks to me about his morning at the Bakery. I try to listen but my brain is so jumbled. I don't think I can form coherent sentences if I ever try to speak. Peeta'll think I'm going crazy. I'm starting to shake but I don't think he notices.

"Don't worry Katniss," Apparently he does notice. "I'm right here for you. Everything will be fine." He thinks I'm shaking because of the appointment. He couldn't be farther from the truth.

"Thanks," I tell him, forcing myself to relax. We get to the doctor's in plenty of time. Peeta helps me take my coat off and he hangs it up for me. I sit down in a hard chair. My stomach has butterflies and I'm starting to feel sick. I make myself take deep breaths. The nausea passes.

I don't want Peeta to talk to me. Every word he says is like a stabbing pain of guilt. He picks up a magazine to read. I feel panicked; the clock ticks too loud, Peeta turns the pages too loud, my breathing is too loud. Finally, it makes me want to scream. I put a hand on Peeta's arm. He looks up at me in concern.

"Gale's getting married and he invited us but we can't go! I'm not letting us go!" I blurt out in a scared whisper.

"Gale?" Peeta clarifies. I nod. He rubs my back and sighs. "You're allowed to say no." He says. There's an edge to his voice but I'm not sure if it's directed at me for bringing it up or Gale for being such a jerk. "I'll tell Gale we're not going if you want." He says but I shake my head. Peeta doesn't insist but I didn't expect him to.

"Mrs. Katniss Mellark." The doctor appears in the waiting room, holding a clipboard with my information. The stereotypical stethoscope hangs from around his neck. Peeta holds my hand as we follow him to a back room. "Have a seat," he says, opening a folder with my name on it. I sit down as the doctor puts the stethoscope in his ears. He feels my heart beat, jots down something on the clipboard and then asks me to lie down. Peeta watches nervously from besides me.

"Now, since it's only been about six weeks, there won't be much to tell you." He lifts up my shirt to show my unchanging stomach. No one would be able to guess that I'm pregnant. He listens for a heartbeat but he doesn't let us hear. He measures my stomach and writes more things down. I sit up when he's done. "So far so good." The doctor says cheerfully. "I'll see you in another month."

"Thanks," Peeta shakes the doctor's hand and helps me up. The doctor gives us a yellow appointment card. We leave the office together, Peeta smiles he whole time. Once we are out of the building and into the snow, Peeta picks me up and twirls me around. When he sets e down, he kisses me. I kiss him back.

"Why are you so happy? It's not like we found out the gender." I tease him, smiling back. It's a real smile though. All thoughts of Gale have disappeared momentarily. I can only think of my family; Peeta and the baby and I together.

"8 more months, Katniss!" He exclaims happily and he kisses me again. We start to walk home, smiles plastered on our faces. Nothing can take away the joy of this moment. We are all healthy. It had better stay this way. We pass by the old Justice Building.

"I'll meet you at home, 'kay?" I tell Peeta as I glance at the war memorial. He seems to sense my need to be alone because he kisses the top of my head and walks away. I watch as he disappears around a corner before I head towards the memorial. It's a giant Mockingjay with the names of District 12 heroes engraved on the bottom pedestal. At least, that's what we call them: heroes. Anyone who died in the Rebellion is listed in the white marble. I see Peeta's family listed near the top. The name I'm looking for is right in the middle where she belongs. Primrose Everdeen. I touch the engraving and fight back tears.

Beyond the statue is the graveyard. Mostly it's just gravestones because there was no body to bury. Prim's grave is the most lavishly decorated. Flowers, cards, wreaths, and other gifts. I wish I had thought to bring something for her. Instead, I quietly read the cards attached to bouquets. There are some from Greasy Sae, Hazelle and Posy, and of course Winnow. The yellow tulips from Peeta and I are still here along with our card. Mom has already adorned the grave with a bouquet of lilacs and a Christmas wreath. Annie and Reap have put a home-made card on the grave. I mentally make a note to send a thank you not for it.

"Prim," I whisper. "The baby is healthy." I say a little louder. I smile at the thought of what she would do if she was here. She would probably kiss me to death. "I go back next month. I really want to know if it's a boy or girl." I explain. I want to tell her about Gale, but even still, I don't want her to worry. "Peeta's better." I say. "But you probably already knew that."

I glance around once more at the cards and flowers. One envelope catches my eye. It's the same colour and writing as the one I ripped up earlier. My heart leaps into my throat. I pick it up with shaking hands and I open it. Lo and behold, it's a wedding invitation with Prim's name on it. At the bottom, Gale has scrawled a message.

"Prim, tell Katniss I'm sorry. I wish you were here. She doesn't understand how much I miss you. You were my sister too. ~Gale xoxo." I feel tears slide down my cheeks. There's nothing I want more than to rip this one up too. But I don't. It's Prim's invitation, not mine. I look up at the grey sky. I don't want my choices to be hers.

"You can say yes, you know." I choke out. I let myself cry for a few minutes. And then I go home to where Peeta has brought me cheese buns from the Bakery and he can't stop smiling for five seconds.

Screw Gale, I think. I'm happy.

**A/N: It's short. I realize this. Reviewing makes me update faster ;)**


	15. Forgiveness

As I start to walk home, snow begins to fall. I'm not a symbolic person but I tell myself that it's Prim crying. But she's not crying because of sadness or regret. Prim's snow-tears are a blessing to me. It's her way of saying that it's time to forgive Gale. Even in the after-life, Prim always knows the best decisions for me. This time, I listen to her. It's an epiphany unlike any other. Gale has been able to forgive me for choosing Peeta. Why can't I forgive him for an accident?

My mind continues to question everything Gale and I have ever been. I contradict myself at every turn. There's no way I can figure this out alone. Peeta's not an option and neither is Haymitch. I need Prim back or at least Madge. Suddenly, it hits me. I don't need to talk to Prim or Madge. By now, I'm standing in front of my mother's house. There's a Christmas wreath nailed to the door. I can see her inside, baking cookies in the kitchen. Despite having a baker for a son-in-law, she still insists on making her own holiday cookies. I know that I have to fix things in my life and hitting two birds with one stone is the easiest way. I make my way up to the front door and knock, trying my best not to hesitate. I hear my mother walk towards the door from inside. It swings open and just the sight of her in a fraying apron with flour in her hair and a wooden mixing spoon in one hand is enough to reinforce what I must do.

"Katniss," she says, clearly surprised at my arrival, but happy nonetheless. "Come in, come in. There's no need to knock." She returns to the kitchen while I hang up my coat and set my boots by the heating vent to dry off. I go into the kitchen and sit at the island while she puts cookie cutters into the dough. "Here, might as well help me." She hands me a bowl and a spoon, ordering me to stir. I remember watching Prim stir alongside my mother. It was always Prim's job.

My mother begins to ramble about the new furniture she's getting and about what kind of sales there were at the Market today. I let her exhaust herself as I get cookie dough everywhere and have to lick it off my fingers like Prim used to do. It was probably the only reason she ever stirred in the first place.

"Okay, tell me what's wrong." My mother sits down beside me and takes the spoon out of my hand so I have no choice but to talk.

"What?" I ask quietly. Now that the time has come to speak, I can't.

"Katniss, I know you have something bothering you and I know you want to tell me. Just say it; quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid." But the thing I'm going to tell her hurts more than a Band-Aid.

"It's about… Prim." I avoid her gaze as I say my sister's name.

"What about her, Katniss?" My mother's voice is resigned and soft, as if she doesn't want to hear but she knows she has to.

"You don't know about her and Gale, do you?" I ask, already knowing the answer. My mother has no clue.

"What do you mean?" It's like she's talking through a straw. Tears burn my eyes but I don't let them fall. I star at my hands, still sticky with cookie dough.

"He killed her, mom. Those were Gale's bombs." It feels good, in a way, to finally say it out loud. "It was his idea to bomb an area and then wait for people to help the wounded and then bomb them too." I can't help the tears now. I want my mother's arms around me, telling me that everything will be fine. But right now, she's too shocked to do anything.

"That's… that's not Gale's fault, honey." She says. I look at her through tear-filled eyes. "He couldn't have known Prim was going to be there. Prim was too close to him for him to ever hurt her." She explains.

"So you forgive him?" I ask, wiping my eyes on my sleeve.

"There's nothing to forgive him for. He would never do anything to hurt you or Prim or me. Not on purpose. Accidents can never be blamed." I nod. No one has ever had the sense to tell me this. I've lived with Peeta since the Rebellion and he hates Gale. My mother's words are the slap of common sense I needed. "The question is, Katniss, do _you_ forgive him?" Her hand reaches out to hold mine.

"Can I forgive him for loving me?" I ask as if it's something I need permission to do.

"Do you love Peeta?" She questions in response. I'm startled by this but I nod anyway. "Did you always love him?" I shake my head this time. "Well, then I guess if Peeta can forgive you for hating him, you can forgive Gale for loving you." She stands up and kisses the top of my head. She rubs my shoulders.

"But he made me so confused." I argue half-heartedly. I refuse to forgive so easily even though I know I should.

"Sorry to inform you, sweetheart," my mother does her best Haymitch impressions which makes me smile. "But he doesn't love you anymore. He's getting married to another woman. What's so confusing about that?" Nothing, that's what. Gale's over me. Why can't I accept the easiness of the situation? I know why. Because up until a month ago, Gale wasn't a part of my life, and the last time he was, it was the most difficult thing.

"I'm not catering his wedding." My mother says suddenly. "He hurt you before, I know he did. Hazelle is one of my closest friends, but my daughter comes first now. You should always have come first to me, Katniss." She lets go of my hand and I sniffle. My eyes are beginning to dry at least. "Now why don't you go see what there is to eat in the cold cellar. I'll go next door and get Peeta and we can have a nice family dinner." She suggests. I hop up from my chair but turn around at the last second to face my mother.

"Mom?" I choke out, the tears returning quickly. She looks at me in alarm because I sound like the bearer of bad news. "I forgive you too." I say as a tear rolls down my cheek and into my hair. I walk towards her. "I finally understand what this place held for you – " I'm cut off by her.

"Don't say it, Katniss. Please don't say it." We look at each other and I see Prim staring back at me. She probably looks at me and sees dad. Suddenly, we fall into each other's arms. I'm sobbing, hysterically. She strokes my hair with shaking hands.

"Shhh, baby, don't cry. I've got you, you're safe." She continues to hold me, calling me 'her baby' and saying I'm okay and she's going to look after me. "Don't cry. Everything's perfect, sweetheart." And this time when she calls me sweetheart, it's not supposed to be funny or to push my buttons like when Haymitch says it. And this time, I listen to my mother. She's right; everything's perfect.


	16. The Whole Story

Dinner that night is so reminiscent of easier times that I forget about forgiving Gale. When Peeta arrives with my mother, I give him the biggest hug I ever have. Forgiving my mother completely and having a cry hasn't put me in a foul mood like it should. My heart doesn't feel as heavy and I can smile without feeling burdened. Peeta notices my sudden good mood but he knows not to ask about it just yet. For now, he's willing to enjoy my happiness and obvious reconciliation with my mom.

"To Baby Mellark!" My mother raises her glass to a toast for our unborn child. Peeta readily raises his wine to clink glasses. My glass of water goes up too, followed by a blush.

"This rice is amazing Ms. Everdeen," Peeta compliments, taking large forkfuls of the grain.

"Oh goodness, Peeta! Enough flattery! I've already given you two my blessing." My mother laughs and Peeta smiles back. "I'm sure you won't be too impressed by dessert. At least not when you've been living off you've been living off your father's recipes!" She adds. Peeta shrugs modestly.

"I wouldn't say that. Your baking skills have always been excellent." He says, attempting to finish his plate before either of us has barely even started.

The rest of the night continues on in this fashion. Peeta is always polite and he talks with such ease. The Everdeen girls take turns countering him and offering up topics of discussion. My mother puts us at such comfort that Peeta tells her about his breakdown and recovery, during coffee. She hugs us both at once and promises us that if anything bad should happen again, that we should come to her first. It is greatly reassuring to hear her saying that.

"Well, I should let you be on your way." She says at long last. I haven't noticed before now, but my eyelids are getting heavy and I'm leaning too comfortably on Peeta's shoulder. He helps me stand and put my coat on.

"Thank you," I say softly to my mother as Peeta accepts a tin of Christmas cookies. We hug and I manage to hold back any remaining tears. Her eyes are wet when we pull away.

Peeta makes the goodbye last no longer than it needs to by opening the front door and letting a cold gust of wind in.

"We'll see you later, Mrs. Everdeen!" He says warmly, leaning in for a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. With his arm around me, Peeta steps outside into the dark and blustery night. My mother waves from the window as we make our way home.

Once inside and warmed up, Peeta takes my hands in his.

"I know you are tired and I promise to let you sleep in as late as you want and I'll bring you some hot chocolate when you wake up." He kisses me gently on the lips, teasing me. "But after that, you need to promise that you'll tell me what's going on – especially today." Fear clutches at my chest for no valid reason. I think my mom has hinted something to him but the searching look in Peeta's eyes changes that theory. He has no idea.

"No one… no one told you." I don't ask this because it's pretty evident. He's just hoping he's right.

"Of course not, Katniss, you've been acting rather guarded these past few days – more so than usual. I'm your husband and I love you. There's no need for anyone to tell me anything unless that person is you." I stare ashamedly into his eyes for not trusting him more. He loves me, he always has.

"I'm sorry –"

"Don't, Katniss. Not yet. You need sleep. I don't want you so stressed out. Hold onto your happiness for a few more hours. Then you can tell me everything." He interrupts, trying to lead the way upstairs.

I want so badly to say it right away, but he's right (isn't he always?). I can't be this stressed for the next 8 months. I resolve to fall asleep happy and wake up with my brain organized.

XXX

Peeta and I both sleep in very late the next morning. Birds chirp at our window and the sun light lands directly on my face. It must be nearly noon by now.

"Peeta!" I shake him awake. He rolls over and sits up, rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry, I was going to make you hot chocolate." He mumbles, still asleep. I shrug.

"It's fine," I stretch my arms and yawn. "C'mon, we'll go make lunch." I throw off our comforter and Peeta leaps out of bed.

"No, Katniss, I can make lunch on my own. You stay in bed." He certainly sounds more awake. I grab my house coat and put it on.

"I'll make soup if you make hot chocolate." I suggest. I'm not as big a fan of hot chocolate as Peeta is. And I guess he doesn't want to start a fight because he doesn't argue again.

I start a fire on the stove and pour a soup mix into a pot. We both sit at the kitchen table, waiting for lunch to boil.

"I'm ready to tell you… everything." I say, looking into his blue eyes. I don't want to be, but I am. Peeta nods, inviting me to continue but I can't. "I… I don't really know where to start." I look at my hands and pick at my nails.

"The beginning?" Peeta says. Taking a deep breath, I start:

"I told myself that I would never forgive my mother. I told myself that before Prim's name was reaped and before she decided not to return to District 12." The soup begins bubbling and I jump up to stir it. Peeta follows.

"For the past few weeks, ever since she got here, I've been trying to decide if I ever _could_ forgive her. And I can. I did." The corners of Peeta's mouth twitch into a smile. "It was right before dinner. It's kind of why we _had_ dinner." As I finish this part of the story, Peeta takes me into his arms and hugs me.

"That's really good of you, Katniss. I'm proud of both you." He kisses my temple and let's go of me.

"There's more," I admit. This is the part that I don't want to say. To put it off, I wait until lunch is ready and served before I continue. Peeta won't be as happy with this part.

"I never told you about… Prim and Gale, did I?" Instantly, I'm filled with guilt for it. He is my husband after all. He deserved to know before now.

"You didn't, but Haymitch did." Peeta replies calmly. My mouth falls open in disbelief. Seeing this, Peeta quickly explains. "He was super drunk and could barely walk home. It was before he met winnow so I had to help him back. Don't blame him for telling me." He takes a sip of hot chocolate and allows me to continue.

"I won't, I won't… Peeta, I don't think I can tell you this." I blurt out, feeling panicked.

"Katniss," just hearing him say my name makes me a bit more relaxed. "Nothing bad will happen if you tell me. And if it does, well, it won't. I'm cured, remember?" I nod but I remind myself that Peeta's 'illness' might not ever leave him despite not having hallucinations.

"Well, I blamed him for that 100% but I don't know if I can anymore. You blamed me for the Rebellion but you went back to normal and forgave me. And now we're both happy. I think… I think things with Gale need to go back to normal." I look at Peeta, trying to read his expression. He doesn't

look entirely convinced that this is a good idea. So, I continue.

"Yesterday, I went to visit Prim, and Gale had given her a wedding invitation." My eyes fill with tears despite the fact that I'm trying so hard not to cry. "She would want to go." I hastily wipe away my tears.

"Which is why I need to forgive him. It's what she would want me to do."

Peeta stands up, his jaw set and his eyes flash angrily.

"Peeta?" I whisper softly. He shakes his head and starts walking towards the door.

"It's not what you think, Katniss!" He calls and I cautiously follow him. "I just need to do something. I'll be home soon." With his coat and boots on, he slams the front door shut and hurries down the street.

I grab my coat as well but he's made good time and I have to follow his footprints in the deep snow. The only time I look up is when the footprints stop.

Right in front of me is a house.

Gale's house.


	17. Just a Slight Concussion

I hesitate about going in. I want to have things with Gale return to something good, not have him think I'm sending Peeta after him. So, I go in, carefully opening and closing the door without making a sound. The first thing I hear is Peeta's voice. It's angrier than I've ever heard it.

"You have no right to mess her around like that!" He yells. "She used to trust you but not anymore, and you have to deal with that! You can't use her dead sister to win her back!" Someone pounds the table but I can't tell who, because then Gale is yelling.

"I'm not 'messing her around!' Katniss makes her own decisions and she always has! I've known her much longer than you and the same goes for Prim! That's why I have a right to visit her grave and talk to your wife." Right then, I realize that I can't listen to this anymore. I walk through to the back to find both men glaring at each other. Gale has his hands clenched into fists and Peeta is visibly shaking. They don't notice me and keep on shouting.

"I'm not saying you don't have that right, but you can't… you can't…" Peeta becomes speechless in his anger. He's never like this. He's always so good with words.

"I can't what, Peeta?" Gale asks, attempting to calm down. It's as if the sound of his name triggers something, because the next thing I know, Peeta lunges himself at Gale. His fist meets Gale's jaw before Gale can even think about defending himself. Soon enough, they're both throwing punches and I'm mortified.

"Stop!" I shout but they either don't hear me or they aren't listening. Against my better judgement, I try to step between them. Gale finally takes notice of me and tried moving me out of the way. Instead, I get lined up with Peeta's line of fire. The taste of blood hits me before the pain does.

"Katniss!" Peeta's anger has disappeared and he's shocked at what he's done. Now that he's distracted, Gale takes a swing at Peeta's temple. He falls and lands on the floor with a sickening thud. I'm glad it's only carpet but Peeta's still out cold. Immediately, I kneel at his head.

"Peeta," I whisper, but he doesn't stir. I glare at Gale who looks stunned but triumphant. "What are you waiting for?" I demand, feeling sick to my stomach. I can feel my lip beginning to swell. "Run and get my mother!" I order. Thank God he listens. I turn my attention back to Peeta. "Please wake up," I murmur, eyeing the bruise that's already forming on the side of his head.

His eyelids flutter open and he tries sitting up. I'm flooded with relief as I gently push him back.

"Relax, Peeta, just stay still," I'm trying my best to sound calm and keep my voice steady. It doesn't work very well.

"I'm sorry…" he murmurs. I tell him not to worry about it, and then Gale returns with my mother. She hands me some ice for my lip as I put Peeta's head in my lap.

"Here," she puts a wet washcloth over Peeta's forehead. I brush his hair out of his face and I notice Gale hovering over us.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Everdeen." Peeta complains but my mother insists. She makes him follow the light of her flashlight, and she checks the size of his pupils.

"Slight concussion," she determines after asking him some simple question. "Can you stand?" she asks him. He nods and we both help him onto his feet. He sways a little but I don't let him fall.

"Let's get you home," I whisper, kissing his cheek. His eyes aren't quite in focus though.

"Not yet," my mother says. "Katniss, make us some tea please. You two," she looks pointedly at Gale and Peeta. "Come sit down and we'll talk this through. Like civilized people." With a wary eye on Peeta, she leads the way to the living-room.

With the ice still at my lip, I make tea using Hazelle's kettle. I can't hear their conversation but I can hear Peeta's voice doing most of the talking. I almost don't want to hear why they were fighting. This wasn't how I wanted things to happen.

I head to the congregation in the living-room with tea for everyone. Peeta's lying on the couch while my mom takes up residence in Hazelle's rocking chair. Gale sits stonily in an armchair.

"Let's see that lip, Katniss." My mother comes over as I set the tea and cups onto the coffee table. She tilts my head, her hand cupped around my chin. "I don't think it'll scar. But keep the ice on it in any case." She smiles at me. I'm so happy we've come to see things through each other's eyes. Peeta sits up to make room for me, but his head falls back into my lap because he's still somewhat dizzy.

"What time will your mother be home?" My mom asks Gale.

"She should be back in 10 minutes or so," Gale replies. His voice sounds hoarse and I look at him. He catches my eye but he can't hold his gaze. He's so sorry. I realize that I was supposed to have forgiven him by now. Would he even accept it? It seems like life would be so much easier for him without me in it.

"Well, I'd like to be here when she gets home," my mother is the only one who's taken tea. "Anything else you want to say Peeta?" She asks. I run my fingers through his hair.

"No, but I think we should go home. See you later Mrs. Everdeen." Peeta stands and I get our coats. His is just lying on the ground by the door. My mother stands to hug us both.

"Thank you," Peeta says to her quietly.

"No problem," she replies and then wraps me up in her arms.

"Yeah, thanks." I say into her hair. With those goodbyes done, I turn to Gale. He's pretending not to pay attention. I walk over and put a hand on his shoulder, hoping I won't soon regret this.

"I don't know about Peeta, but I forgive you." He just looks at me. "For everything." I stare into his eyes, trying to convey my message without words. Gale nods.

"And I'm sorry, so I guess we're even." He smiles and for a moment, I have Gale back. My hunting partner, my best friend, Gale.

"Katniss? Are you ready?" Peeta's voice sounds urgent. He must need to lie down again so I let him put some weight on me and we head out.

Once we're home, he heads straight upstairs. I hear him vomit and then our bedroom door closes. Lunch still sits on the table and I clean up. I'll check on Peeta in an hour. But until then, I make myself smile.

I've forgiven Gale. It feels good.

**A/N Don't think I've forgotten Peeta and Gale's argument. I'm getting there. Soon, hopefully. **


	18. As Real As It Gets

I have no idea what to do with myself so I decided to clean our house. It hasn't been properly cleaned for a couple of weeks. There's a thin layer of dust on the bookshelves we rarely use. I even sweep the kitchen floor and organize the pains in Peeta's studio room.

When I go to check on my recently concussed husband, he tries to refuse to open his eyes**.**

"Peeta, c'mon!" I say, swatting his arm. He covers his eyes with his hand.

"No, I'm tired," he whines. I roll my eyes and try to pry his hand away. He grabs hold of my wrists.

"Peeta!" I squeal, laughing. He smiles back. He's stronger than me, and when he stops trying to push me away, I fall onto him. He tickles me and I can't stop laughing. "Stop!" I say. "Mercy, mercy,"

Peeta stops, his arms around my waist. His eyes snap open. His blue ones meet my brown."

"I think you're fine," I giggle and give him a lasting kiss. I get up as he settles back against his pillow.

"I love you Katniss," He calls across the room.

"Love you too, Peeta." After this, I have no desire to clean. I need to take a walk.

Somehow, my feet lead me back to where the old Seam used to be. I figure that, since I'm already here, I might as well go hunting. The woods are awfully quiet. My bow and arrows are where they always are – hidden in a dead tree. But something's missing… Gale's snares and crossbow.

"Gale?" I call, trying not to scare off too many animals. Suddenly, he appears from behind a tree.

"Hey Catnip," he greets. "How's bread boy?" He asks too casually. I scowl at him.

"Concusses, thanks to you." I march off in the opposite direction, ready to hunt.

"I thought we'd forgiven each other!" He says, following me.

"We have. But that doesn't mean I've forgotten." I try not to sound cold or hostile.

"I haven't forgotten either, Katniss. But is Peeta better?" He holds back a tree branch for me.

"He's fine," we hunt in silence after hat. Once we've taken down several squirrels, we rest. "So what were you and Peeta fighting about?" I ask, making Gale sigh.

"That's a question for Peeta," He replies.

"And for you." I turn to him. "You were involved and as my friend, you have to tell me." I demand.

"Fine, but talk to Peeta about it as well." He requests. I nod. "He was under the impression that I was… using Prim to make you love me again. He thought that I was back to make you jealous and when it didn't work; I tried to appeal to you with Prim." He pauses. "It's not true. None of it. I really do love Tink. And I really do wish Prim could be here. I miss her too, every day." I nod at this. "Peeta doesn't understand that. I don't know why he's so hell-bent on making me the bad guy."

"He's cured," I blurt out, not caring if Peeta wants Gale to know. "But I think he's scared that something could set him off again." I explain.

"And I would set him off?" He asks.

"No, I would. But because you have the ability to hurt me, you have the ability to hurt him." I stand, meaning to resume our hunt.

"I won't hurt you anymore. I think Peeta would be more right in fearing you hurting _me_." Gale also stands.

"The only way I'll hurt you is by not going to your stupid wedding. So, I apologize in advance for that." We walk in the direction of home.

"I'm over it," he says. When I look at him in surprise, he just smiles. "I didn't go to _your _wedding. But let's go, we won't catch much else in this cold." He leads the way. We make it back to town before we have to turn down different streets.

"Tell Hazelle I say hi," I tell him.

"I will. See you later Catnip," I wave at him until he turns down a side street to take a short-cut. I get home feeling happy and distracted. It has been literally years since I've been hunting with Gale. When I go to check on Peeta, he doesn't tickle me or mess around. His blue eyes seem normal. I ask him if he's thrown up.

"Only once more," he answers honestly. I nod, brushing his hair out of his face. "Where'd you go?" He asks. I frown.

"Out. With a friend." I say, trying to avoid this conversation.

"Gale?" He says. There's no point in lying.

"Yeah, problem with that?" My voice is on the brink of sounding menacing.

"I guess not. It's your life." He closes his eyes so he doesn't see the hurt look on my face.

"It's _our_ life, but okay." I leaved our bedroom, my happiness ebbing away.

I decide that I'm mad at Peeta. Gale was right: I can make my own decisions. I don't ever make sure he's recovering again. He misses dinner but I'm too angry for loneliness to ever hold my heart. At around 10 o'clock, he calls down to me from the top of the stairs.

"Katniss? Are you coming to bed?" I make him sound whinier in my head.

"Yeah!" I shut off the radio and go upstairs. He's already half-asleep by the time I've put my pajamas on and brushed my teeth. I crawl in beside him but I can't sleep. I toss and turn, trying not to blame everything on Peeta. His intentions were good. Our clock beeps when it gets to midnight. Maybe I should check on Peeta on last time.

"Peeta," I shake him gently. He wakes up and sneezes, which isn't uncommon for him. It's how he usually wakes up.

"What time is it?" He mumbles.

"Are you okay?" I ask. He nods and I study his bleary blue eyes. "Yeah, you're fine." He tries to kiss me but I turn away so he gets a face full of hair.

"You're not fine. Please talk to me." Peeta almost pleads. I ignore him. "I'm sorry about this morning. I'm sure Gale explained what happened –" I sit up.

"Yes, he did. But that doesn't mean you don't have to." I say, raising my voice.

"Katniss, I'm sorry. I don't know how many times I can say that. We can't trust Gale. And he can't make you do anything." He argues back. I lie back down and turn away from him.

"I know it's not his place to make me forgive him. But it's not your place not to let me." Peeta doesn't respond and I don't want to continue fighting, so I stay quiet too.

At some point, I must fall asleep because I'm suddenly in the graveyard, standing over Prim's grave. The headstone no longer says her name or date of birth. Instead, it's a TV screen and the scene of her death in the Capitol is replayed over and over. I want to run away but I can't. My eyes remain glued to the scene. I try kicking the headstone, crack the screen. But nothing happens. Prim's screams reverberate in the empty graveyard. They are joined by my own.

"Katniss!" She screams. I cover my ears but it does nothing to block out her voice.

"Prim!" I yell back. My eyes snap open and I find myself still in my bed with Peeta trying to wake me. I'm still panicked and sweaty, and I feel like throwing up. I sit up and Peeta puts his arms around me. I cry uncontrollably.

"Sh, Katniss, you're okay. I've got you, its fine." He says, kissing me. I shake my head. It's not fine. I hate fighting with Peeta; I don't want Prim to be gone.

"I'm sorry, Katniss." Peeta strokes my hair. "I shouldn't have said those things about Gale or tried to confront him about it. You're right. It's _our_ life but _your_ decision. I'm so sorry," He apologizes profusely. I want to apologize too, but words don't come. We've both been snappy towards each other.

Peeta makes me lie down and I bury my face in his chest. He rubs my back. Somehow, I have the ability to fall asleep again.

Xx

I wake up to find Peeta has already left for the Bakery. I crawl out of bed and find some clothes to wear. My hair is a mess from last night so I tie it into a braid. I don't feel like eating breakfast, but my mother and Winnow would both take turns murdering me if I missed a meal. So I make some toast and drink some tea. I watch the snow fall outside. I'll be stuck inside today but I might as well go to the Bakery. There are some things I need to tell Peeta.

The line-up at the Bakery isn't as long as it might have been on a nicer day. I stand behind an older man, waiting – just like everyone else – to see the Baker. The man orders 3 loaves of rosemary bread. Today, Peeta must be working in the back because Thom is taking the orders.

"Hello, Mrs. Mellark," he says brightly as I step forward. Thom is only 16, but he's eager and smart. I realize that he's the same age as Peeta and I were when we were in the 74th Hunger Games.

"Hi Thom, can I speak with Peeta please? Oh, and I'll have half a dozen cheese buns too." I smile back at him.

"Sure thing," he opens the doors to the back and calls Peeta's name, then her proceeds in packaging the cheese buns.

Peeta comes out wearing his apron, his hair spotted with flour. When he sees that it's me who asked to see him, he frowns slightly.

"What's wrong?" He asks, coming around the counter to meet me. I lean forward and kiss him. He stumbles backwards from the force. When I pull away, he leans forward to continue the kiss.

"Ahem," Thom interrupts. We pull apart, blushing. "Your cheese buns," he says, sliding the box towards us.

"Thanks Thom," Peeta says. He picks up the box in one hand and takes my hand in the other. He leads me to a small table where we sit across from each other.

"How are you?" He asks, holding my hands across the table. I nod.

"I'm good, but I need to say that I'm sorry too." I look at our hands. "I was being selfish yesterday."

"No, I was." Peeta interrupts me. "Dr. Aurelius warned me that I might… be slightly irrational from time to time. It's just an after-effect of the Hijacking and treatment. I'm going to try not to let it happen again." He leans forward and kisses my forehead.

"I wish you'd told me." I mumble.

"I'm sorry I didn't. I didn't want to scare you." He pauses, playing with my hands. "I've been thinking. Maybe we should have another dinner. Like the one we had for Annie and Reap. We should have another try." He suggests. I like the sound of this.

"That sounds really good, Peeta." I smile and he pulls me up to stand with him.

"Why don't you go home and relax today? You can pick a date for our dinner party. I'll try to be home early. But before you go, I have something for you." He dashes off to get something from the back. I stand at the counter as Thom takes another order.

Peeta reappears holding a cake with green frosting. He holds it out to me, smiling. He's written "I love you. Real." on it, which makes me want to cry. He kisses my cheek and hugs me. A few people in line sigh lovingly.

"Save a piece for me, 'kay?" He jokes. I kiss him as a thank-you and start out for home.

_I love you too, Peeta. And that's as real as it gets._


	19. Doorbell

I get home and sleep a little more. Between tossing and turning and the nightmare last night, I don't feel much rested. I crash on the couch in our living-room.

I sleep for only an hour when the doorbell rings. My eyes snap open and I wonder curiously who it could be. Surely Peeta didn't mean he would be this early. And besides, he wouldn't be knocking. I unlock the dead bolt and open the door to find my mother.

"Mom, hi," I say in surprise.

"Do you mind if I come in?" She asks. I shake my head and stand aside so she can enter.

"What's wrong?" I ask, running every scenario through my head. My mother takes off her boots and coat.

"Nothing, nothing," she kisses my cheek and heads towards the living-room. "I was just… a bit lonely." She admits.

"Oh," I sit down next to her on the couch.

"I don't start training new Healers until after Christmas. Until then, I'm stuck at home by myself." She sighs heavily. "Now that your father and –"

"Mom, don't!" I say roughly.

"Sorry, Katniss,"

"It's fine mom. I get lonely too." There's an awkward pause. "Why don't you come over here every day? I know I'm going to get awfully bored soon. Especially since hunting will be out of the question." I suggest. She looks at me in surprise.

"Are you sure?" I nod. "Oh thank you Katniss!" She gives me a hug. "I've already given up Saturdays to spend time with Hazelle. And I'll give you and Peeta some peace on Sundays." She explains.

"Sounds good," I say.

"How is Peeta, anyway?" She asks.

"He's much better. What did you tell Hazelle?" I reply. I don't want her to hate us.

"Oh, I just said that Gale, Peeta, and you got into an argument. One thing led to another, but I said I sorted it all out. Don't worry about it, Katniss." She says. I nod. At least she didn't say what they were fighting about. "Did you talk to Peeta about it?"

"Yeah, him and Gale actually. I think we're all over it now. In fact, Peeta wants us to plan a dinner party." My mother gasps excitedly. She obviously hasn't heard about the disastrous last one.

"That'll be wonderful!" She exclaims. "When are you thinking of having it?" She wants to know. I shrug.

"I haven't thought about it, to be honest." I stand, preparing to go to the kitchen. "C'mon, we'll go check the calendar. And Peeta made me a cake this morning. We can have a couple slices." I say, leading the way.

My mother makes coffee even though I'm not too fond of it. I drink it anyway. We pore over the calendar and plan what we could cook. It's very meditative to talk about salad and main courses with my mother. At noon, she makes us turkey sandwiches on Peeta's dill bread.

"This has been fun, but I should go home and unpack some more." She says an hour later. She stands, putting her dishes into the sink. "I'll see you tomorrow." She gives me another hug before going out to put her coat and boots on.

"Yeah, can't wait." I say, completely honestly. "And I'll see you in 3 weeks for dinner." I add, which is when we've decided to host it. I'm more excited for this than I thought I would be. My mother heads out the door. I go back to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

I'm about to start drying them, when the doorbell rings again. I hurry to answer it, thinking my mother has forgotten to tell me something. When I open the door this time, it's Haymitch.

"Hey, can I come in for a minute?" He asks, not waiting for a response before pushing past me.

"What do you want?" Haymitch doesn't usually pay us visits.

"Manners Mrs. Mellark," he says. "Or did you learn nothing from Effie?" I know he's joking but I roll my eyes. 

"Pardon me, Mr. Abernathy. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I say sarcastically.

"Better, but watch your tone." He takes off his gloves, but nothing else. His visit is going to be short. "When's your next doctor's appointment?" He asks. 

"Why?" I say suspiciously.

"I want to go." Well, I can't say this isn't shocking to me.

"No," I say.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Because you have no right to go. It's not your child!" I say defiantly.

"C'mon! Peeta already said I could."

"No he didn't,"

"How would you know?"

"Because Peeta's not stupid. He knows I don't want you near our baby." This renders Haymitch speechless for a moment.

"What do you mean?" He asks softly.

"You're careless and drunk, Haymitch. You're a hazard to children!" I explain. This appears to be news to Haymitch. His expression softens and his eyes droop. Then suddenly, he's angry and surly again.

"Fine, but don't expect me to ever help you out." He slams my own front door in my face." I stare quizzically at the door. _That was the strangest thing I've ever seen._ I think to myself.

I go back to dry the dishes, still very confused with my ex-mentor. Once they're done, I start eating another piece of cake. Its chocolate – my favourite. I've almost eaten half of it when the doorbell rings a third time. I don't rush to answer it. I could have seen it coming.

"Gale!" I say when I see him on the front porch.

"Hey, I just wanted to give you some deer meat. Probably the last we'll catch this winter." He holds out a package of it. How in the world he got a deer is beyond me. They don't usually come out in this weather.

"Thank you so much!" I exclaim, giving him a quick hug.

"I see you've already had some visitors." He remarks, looking at the 2 other sets of footprints leading to and from the house.

"Yep, my mother dropped by earlier and stayed for lunch. And then Haymitch came… that was a weird visit." I explain.

"What do you mean it was 'weird?'?" Gale inquires. I shrug.

"He freaked out because I said he wasn't going to come near my baby." I say, not thinking too much of it.

"You don't know?" He asks. I frown. There's something to know?

"Um… no?"

"He was almost a father once." Gale says quietly. My eyes widen. "Right after his Games. He had a sweetheart back home. She found out that she was pregnant right before the Reaping. Haymitch was plenty excited about it. But then they killed her before the baby was born." I know who he means when Gale says 'they'; the Capitol. I feel weak in the knees. Gale catches me before I fall.

"I gotcha," he says, holding me up.

"Oh my God!" I mutter. "Haymitch…" I collect my thoughts. "How do you know this?" I ask.

"I heard a lot of things about him from your mother and mine during your first Games. I probably wasn't supposed to hear them, but I did." Before he's even done explaining, I start putting on my coat. "Where are you going?" He asks.

"To see Haymitch," I reply, pulling on my boots and practically running down the street. But first, I need to tell Peeta.

**A/N You guys send me such nice reviews all the time! Thank you! I would appreciate some more! **


	20. Same Position as Peeta

I know that I need to tell Peeta about this before I make any decisions. I've been known to make irrational decisions when I get emotional. Peeta will be the voice of reason in all this.

It's rush hour when I get to the Bakery. I don't wait patiently in line like before. Instead, I run to the front.

"I need to see Peeta! Now!" I practically yell at Thom. Without questioning me, he turns to go to the back. I know I'm being over-dramatic, but I want to talk to Haymitch as soon as possible. And I'll admit that it's freaking me out to think that Haymitch was almost a father; that he was in the same position Peeta is. I knew that the Capitol had killed Haymitch's family, but to think they murdered a girl and her unborn child… it's disgusting!

"Katniss!" Peeta sees my distraught face. He doesn't take the time to walk around the counter. It would take too long. Instead, he leaps over the counter and wraps me in his arms. We ignore everyone else around us for a moment. I cling to Peeta as a new and horrifying thought runs through my mind. If the Capitol still stood and they still wanted to punish Peeta, they wouldn't think twice about killing me, even in my current state.

"Everything's okay, I promise. Just relax, take a deep breath." Peeta says, rocking me back and forth. I do what says and take a steadying breath, realizing that I hadn't been breathing before. I'm not sure how long we stand there, but it's too long. I pull away from him.

"It's about Haymitch," I whisper. Peeta tries not to look shocked; concern is written all over his face.

"What do you mean? What's happened to him?" He wipes a tear away from my cheek. I take his hand and lead him away from the crowd. Once we're out of earshot, I tell Peeta everything that Gale told me. By the end of it, I'm slightly hysterical.

"Oh Katniss, it's okay." He pulls me into his arms again. "Why did you want to tell me?" He asks, getting to the point.

"I was going to go talk to him and offer for him to come to some of our appointments, maybe help us make small decisions." I pray silently that he agrees with this. "I didn't want to tell him unless you agreed." I add.

"You do what you think is best," he says, giving me one last kiss, before sending me off. Back in the cold, I feel numb for more than one reason. How am I supposed to let him know that I _know_? Not even Gale was supposed to know. I guess I could just avoid that part of the conversation. There's no reason why I can't have changed my mind. Then again, there's no reason for me _to_ have changed my mind. He'll question it, I know he will.

I hesitate for a moment. I don't want Haymitch to be even angrier at me. I just stand in the middle of the street, debating what to do. I hate second-guessing myself. Just do it, I tell myself, making my feet move in the direction of Haymitch's. I knock on the door once I get there. I could probably just go right in, but I'm not pushing my luck.

"Oh, it's you." Haymitch growls when he sees that it's me. I nod.

"Can I come in?" I plead. He stands aside to let me in, not saying anything. I allow myself into the sitting room where Haymitch has already finished a bottle of beer. "I thought you were only allowed to drink socially." I tease him, trying to keep things light. I get a glare in return as he opens another bottle. I sit down on the couch.

"Listen, Haymitch, I'm sorry. You're not a hazard to children. And I _do_ really want you to be a part of my baby's life." I say, waiting for him to say something.

"What made you change your mind?" He asks, as I knew he would. I look at my feet in shame.

"Gale told me about your life before and after the 50th Hunger Games." I admit. Nothing is said after this. I can't see Haymitch's reactions because I'm staring so hard at the ground. Suddenly, I hear my old mentor crying. I look up, astounded and terrified at the same time. He's sitting on the fake leather couch across from me, his head in his hands, crying.

"I'm sorry," I apologize quickly. I'm so stupid to think that this would work. All Haymitch does is shake his head.

"No, Katniss, I'm not mad." He wipes his eyes on the back of his sleeve. "I just never thought you would find out about that. I don't want to talk about it. It's in the past. And I don't want you to think about it, either. That will never happen to anyone every again. Remember that. Least of all you." He explains. His face has become red and splotchy. I've never seen Haymitch cry before. I just nod. "Was that… was that all you wanted?" He stands up as if he's going to walk me to the door.

I stand as well, but I crash into him, hugging him as hard as I can. I knock the wind out of him for a minute.

"Katniss, its fine, really." He says, but he hugs me back just as hard.

"But you could've been a father, you almost had kids –" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"I don't want to talk about it. Besides, you and Peeta are pretty much my kids. You're a big enough handful on your own." He jokes. He studies my face. "There's something else, isn't there?" I nod, and take a deep breath. Haymitch makes me sit down again.

"I talked with Peeta and we've agreed to let you come to as many doctor appointments as you want. You can help choose things for the nursery and help paint it. We both want you – need you – to mentor us through this." I explain. It doesn't seem like enough though. He's been through a lot since the 50th Hunger Games. He deserves more. "You can be there when it's born, if you want." I add, looking at him.

He doesn't reply. Just starts crying again. He puts an arm around me and kisses my hair.

"Thank you sweetheart. I may just take you up on those offers." He smiles and I'm afraid I might cry as well. There's no time for more tears, however, since the phone starts ringing. Haymitch reluctantly pulls away from me to answer. I quickly wipe at my eyes. Stupid hormones, I think.

"Hello?" I hear Haymitch say. "Yeah, do you want to speak to her? Oh… yeah, sure… what time? Of course… thanks Peeta… don't worry about it… bye." Wondering why Peeta is calling Haymitch, I give him a quizzical look when he returns.

"Looks like you'll be staying here tonight." He says, sitting down on the couch.

"What happened to Peeta?" I ask urgently. I remember the last time I had to stay at Haymitch's overnight. I've been trying to forget.

"Nothing, he just doesn't want you walking home in this weather. He said he'll probably stay at the Bakery tonight anyway." Haymitch explains. I breathe a sigh of relief and glance outside. It's already started getting dark – just another sign that December truly is here. The snow is coming down hard. I have a horrible feeling that we'll be snowed in by tomorrow.

"Why can't Peeta come here? It's closer than our house." I ask, not wishing to spend a week stuck in a house with Haymitch. I love the guy, but he isn't the most entertaining person.

"I'm sure he could, but he's going to play it safe. He doesn't want to get lost in a blizzard." Haymitch pulls me back onto the couch. "Just relax. You won't have to live here. I'll bring you home once it stops snowing." He reassures me. I do my best to relax, to do as Haymitch says. "Have you two thought of any names for the baby?" He tries changing the subject.

"No, we don't until we find out the gender." I explain. In fact, I might not start thinking of a name until it's born. Apparently Haymitch agrees.

"Don't rush into it. A name lives with a person forever. It lives with you, too." He says, taking a gulp of the beer he'd opened when I got there.

"Thanks," I say. There's an awkward silence.

"What do you want for dinner?" He asks. I shrug.

"Whatever you're having." I reply.

"I'll make lasagna." He stands and heads to the kitchen. I lean back on the couch. I miss Peeta already.

And I realize with a pang of regret, that the fresh cheese buns are still at home.

**A/N This is the worst chapter I've ever written. I only like one line in it. Can you guess what it is? Someone requested more Haymitch. So here he is! Review :) **


	21. Making Invitations

Haymitch lets me go to bed early. The less time awake with Peeta, the better. I stay in the room that I resided in last time. I have to borrow a pair of pajamas that Winnow has left. We're about the same height, but Winnow has a wider waist than me. Won't be true for long.

The relief I feel for making amends with Haymitch is slightly overwhelming. But maybe it's just being added to that relief of having both my mother and Gale on my side again. Then again, the sudden tears might be another sign of my hormones going crazy. I turn on my side, remembering the last time District 12 had a bad blizzard. That was back before the Quarter Quell had been announced; just after Thread had been put in charge. That time, it was _me_ who'd been worried about Peeta getting lost in the snow.

I try my hardest not to let the nightmares of 14 years ago re-enter my sleep. There's one blurry image of a wolf, but that's soon replaced by Peeta's face.

Xx

I wake up feeling sick. I rush to the bathroom and throw up last night's lasagna. Usually, Peeta holds my hair and rubs my back. Usually, he carries me back to bed. Not this morning. I have to hold my own hair and get my own glass of water to rinse my mouth. Still feeling slightly queasy, I pull on my clothes from yesterday. I amble downstairs, not looking forward to eating breakfast.

However, when I arrive in the kitchen, there isn't any sign of food – or Haymitch for that matter. The only thing that suggests he's awake, is a note tapped to the coffeemaker. Haymitch's rough scrawl is almost unintelligible. I have to muddle my way through reading it.

"Katniss,

I'm out shovelling the way home for you. Find something to eat. Thom's shovelling from the Bakery so you'll have your painter with you soon. Thanks for yesterday.

~Haymitch"

I could cry. I really could. There's no way I can repay Haymitch. He's done too much for us. I glance out the kitchen window. It's still snowing, but only lightly. Not hard enough to make shovelling moot. Now that breakfast isn't mandatory, I grab my coat and boots to go outside.

Haymitch has his driveway and sidewalk all cleared out. He's about five houses down the street. I look in the opposite direction, towards the Bakery. Two heads are barely visible over the drifts of snow. One is dark-brown, the other is very blonde.

"Hey!" I look back to see Haymitch waving me down. I walk his way as he clears more snow onto someone's yard. He leans against his shovel when I get there. "We didn't really anticipate so much snow," he admits. "But I'm going to have you safe at home as soon as possible." He starts shovelling again. "Did you eat?" He asks.

"I'm not feeling too well." I say offhandedly. Haymitch pauses again. He looks at me in concern and worry. "I'm fine, it's just morning sickness." I quickly add when I see his face.

"You should go back inside anyway. Peeta and Thom will make it to my place before I get to yours. Wait for them… inside." He advises. I lean closer to him and give him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Thank you," I say, trying to sound light and cheerful. I don't want any more tears from either of us. I head back to his house which doesn't seem so lonely now that I know Peeta is on his way.

"Save your kisses for Peeta!" Haymitch calls after me. "Might get you a free meal." He's only joking. Memories of our first Games flood my mind. If I had to do it all again, I wouldn't kiss Peeta just to get gifts; I would do it for the sake of kissing him.

It takes a surprisingly short time for Peeta and Thom to make it to Haymitch's. I've already got tea and toast for them. Peeta greets me with a kiss.

"That didn't take you long. Were you eating the snow?" I joke, handing Peeta a cup of tea. He laughs softly at my attempt at humour.

"Mr. Keller came out to help. He owns the jewellery shop beside the Bakery." Peeta explains, sitting beside Thom at the table. "Haymitch made us come inside for food before we start helping him." He adds.

"Did he mention anything about yesterday?" I ask. Peeta hands half of his piece of toast to me.

"He just thanked me. It was your idea after all." Peeta answers. Speaking of ideas the two of us have had, I smile.

"I picked a day for our big dinner party." I say excitedly.

"Let's hear it then," Peeta says, holding my hand in his.

"Mom and I decided on December 31st. We can celebrate the New Year together!" Planning this with my mother seems so long ago. Was it really only 24 hours ago? Less than that, I realize.

"It's perfect." Peeta stands, kissing my nose. "Just like you," he puts his plate in the sink and refills his tea. I beam. I've never made plans like this. Now I understand why Effie was always so chipper about these things. I turn to Thom.

"You can come too, Thom." I invite. "If you aren't already doing something," I add. Thom looks from Peeta to me, incredulous.

"Of course, I would be honoured." He says gratefully.

"Bring your girlfriend, too." Peeta suggests. "And there's no need to be so polite." He says, winking at me. "That's my job," Thom goes pink at the ears but he promises to come to dinner with his girlfriend. They both finish their tea and head back out to shovel. I feel obliged to do the dishes since Haymitch is doing such a favour to me.

Xx

"Katniss, time to go home!" I open my eyes with a snap. I hadn't realized I'd been dozing off. A newspaper lies on the ground, having fallen from my lap.

"Quickly, before you get snowed in again!" That's Haymitch's voice. I hurry into the front room to put my stuff on. Thom and Mr. Keller have already left. Snow falls steadily, but not as thick as yesterday.

"Thank you so – " I begin.

"We're even. Don't worry about it." He interjects, giving me a quick hug and shaking Peeta's hand. The walk home is quite pleasant. My hair is white with snowflakes by the time we cross our threshold. A note is stuck to the inside door. The neat yet slanted hand-writing can only be my mother's. Prim's was the exact same.

"Katniss and Peeta,

I found some old card stock in one of my boxes. I thought you could use it to write up invitations. I've left it in the mailbox for you.

~Mom"

Peeta collects the card stock and brings it inside.

"Why don't we do these now?" He asks. "I don't have to be at work today. We might be snowed in again by dinnertime."

"Sure, let me get changed first." I head upstairs to get out of yesterday's clothes. Peeta doesn't bother. He'd been wearing his apron most of the day anyway.

When I come back down, he's set out his good calligraphy pens – the ones he uses to sign his paintings – and has found some scrap paper to set beside the card stock.

"First things first, you need a lesson on calligraphy." Peeta says when he sees me. He hands me one of the bigger pens and some paper. I look at him skeptically. "I'll only show you how to write what we need." He promises, coming to stand beside me.

At first, he draws dotted lines for me to trace. Then he explains how to angle the pen to get a different stroke size. "It's a lot like painting." He says, although this doesn't help much. I've never been good at painting… or anything artistic really. By the time I almost have 'You're invited' be legible, I've run out of patience.

"Why don't _you_ do the invitations?" I ask grumpily. 

"Because it's your dinner party too. Besides, you're getting really good!" Peeta consoles me, having all the patience in the world. I look again at my millionth attempt in doubt. Peeta sees the look on my face. "I'm serious! You got the tail of the 'Y' the right length. You didn't press too hard or too lightly. And the strokes are equal and un-smudged." He points all these things out to me. I sigh.

"I guess it's getting better, but you'll be so much faster!" I'm too stubborn to let him be right; and too modest to let him congratulate me. All Peeta does is smile, laugh softly, and kiss me.

"We'll compromise. If you write that on the front, I'll write everything else on the inside. Sound good?" He suggests. I nod.

"As long as I don't have to learn anymore stupid fancy letters." I pass him the card stock and we both get started.

"Who's invited?" Peeta asks just as I finish the first 'Y'. I pause, having never really thought about it myself.

"Well, we've already sort of invited my mom, Thom, and his girlfriend. But definitely Haymitch and Winnow, Gale, Hazelle and the kids…." I shrug. "Can you think of anyone else?" There's a moment of silence in which Peeta fills it by tapping his pen on the table in thought.

"That's a really good list, but…" he trails off, as if he's afraid to tell me what he's thinking.

"Go on, Peeta. If you're letting me invite Gale without questions asked, who would I say no to?" I put a hand over his. He takes a deep breath before saying the one name I never thought he would.

"How about Johanna?"

**A/N BAM! Didn't see that coming, didja? In all honesty, neither did I. Please review! You all give me such wonderful comments and ideas. If there is anything/anyone you want to see more or less of, just let me know! I'd be very willing to make you happy!**


	22. Johanna Mason

At first, all I can do is stare open-mouthed at Peeta. I don't even know how to respond.

"Mason?" I finally ask.

"How many Johanna's do we know?" He replies. I'm at somewhat of a loss at what to say.

"Then we should invite Annie and Reap." I say. It isn't that Johanna and I aren't friends; it's just that we haven't spoken in years. I don't want another surprise meeting like we had with Gale.

"That's 15 people, Katniss. I don't think we have enough room for that many." Peeta determines.

"I guess that answers it then," I begin writing again, hoping Peeta doesn't get mad. If I was a good person, I would have just let him invite her. But I've never done what was expected of me.

"Yeah… I guess," Peeta hesitates before going back to writing an official invitation for my mom.

Xx

It takes about an hour for me to finish all my invitations. Peeta takes half as long. When he's done, he makes us a late lunch. I try in vain not to get bread crumbs on the invitations while I eat.

"I'm going to go take these to the post office." Peeta announces once I'm finished. He begins to gather them and the guilt I feel about Johanna makes me speak up.

"Just wait! I have something else to send." I run upstairs and grab a piece of blank paper and a normal pen.

"Dear Johanna," I write at the top.

"Long time no talk, huh? It's honestly been too many years, hasn't it? Time to bridge the gap, I think. I guess I should start by saying that after 12 years of being married, Peeta and I are starting a family. I know I used to say that I never wanted kids, and I am scared out of my mind about this, but we're both so happy! It's a happiness I haven't felt for so many years. Not since my father was alive and Prim was still here. I really hope we can see each other sometime before or after the baby is born.

We saw Annie and little Reap not too long ago. I know Annie still misses Finnick like crazy. So do I, to be honest. You may not be a fan of kids, Johanna, but I think even Reap could warm your heart. He's too much like his dad not to.

This letter is too short and abrupt to be any good. I'm sorry it's been so long since we've talked. I know we weren't great friends, but even good friends are needed. Peeta's waiting patiently for me to finish writing this so he can take it to the post office. I hope I hear from you soon.

All my love,

Katniss Mellark."

I go back downstairs and hand Peeta the letter. I make him swear he won't look at the envelope. He goes off in the snow to the post office while I await the regret that is sure to come. When Peeta comes back, it's to find me pacing the floor in anxiety. What if Johanna doesn't write back? What if I'm solidifying the gaping hole between us? What is she writes back and I find out she's changed – she's not fierce and stubborn but frail and depressed? Then again, how would I feel if she's moved on, past everything that's happened? Angry? Jealous? Panicked because I'm still taking things day-by-day? Because for me, it can still be a struggle to get up in the morning, or fall asleep at night. It's not fair, but it's right.

"What are you doing?" Peeta asks. I stop immediately and try to settle down on the couch.

"Nothing," I say a little too casually to be believable. Peeta sits next to me and puts an arm around my shoulders.

"How about some TV?" He suggests, turning on our rarely used television. I don't pay much attention to the News broadcast. I'm still thinking about Johanna.

In fact, I think about the letter to Johanna every waking hour – and sometimes in my dreams. The only time I don't think about her is when my mother comes over to plan our dinner party. By the end of the first week, several things have happened: a menu is made up, everyone calls to say they can come, my mother starts making decorations, and Johanna's letter comes exactly one week from when I sent mine.

I refrain from opening it until my mom leaves. I'm alone while I read it and I soon find this a mistake. When Peeta comes home 2 hours later, I'm curled in a ball on our couch, tears still running down my face. The letter is lying on the coffee table.

"Baby," Peeta kneels beside the couch, fixing my hair. "Is everything okay? Are you hurt?" He asks, his voice gentle.

"I-I'm fine," I choke out. With trembling fingers, I point to the crumpled piece of paper. Peeta takes notice of it and picks it up. He sits on the edge of the coffee table while I wait for him to read it.

"Dear Katniss," he says aloud and I whimper.

"I don't want to hear it again. Don't say it all out loud." I say, making Peeta's face more concerned than ever. So, he continues to read in his head. Even though I can't see the page, I can still remember every word.

"Dear Katniss,

First, let me give you my happiest congratulations on your pregnancy! You and Peeta must be very excited to have your own family. I also hear that your mother is back in 12 – although that's maybe just a rumour.

This being said, I'm afraid I must be the bearer of bad news. Your friend, Johanna, is not with us any longer. This must come as quite a shock to you – it was to us too. You see, Johanna threw herself into work as quickly as she could after the Rebellion. She needed to be doing something. She began recovering just as healthily and safely as you. She even decided to have children. Despite not getting married, Johanna had a daughter whom has been living with me ever since her mother passed away.

Johanna did indeed take her own life. DeAnna, her 12 year old girl, has been told that it was an accident at work. The truth would be utterly unbearable for the poor dear. She was only 10 when it happened. We could arrange for you to meet her if you'd like.

My deepest condolences, and once again, my sincere congratulations! I hope to hear from you soon. Happy holidays!

District 7, Capitol Escort,

Cordelia Morgane."

As he reaches the bottom of the page, Peeta's eyes fill with tears and his hand goes over his mouth in shock.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. I make myself sit up, my hair coming out of its braid. "Johanna," Peeta breathes. In half a second, I'm standing, my arms wrapped tightly around him. He holds me just as close, stroking my hair. I cry into his chest and I feel his body wrack with sobs.

In a moment, our lives seemingly stop. It doesn't matter that I'm scared of having kids. It doesn't matter that Peeta may not be cured and he may not have forgiven Gale yet. Nothing matters right now. I had feared Johanna changing, but never would I have thought she'd take her own life. Particularly if she had a daughter to raise.

That in itself scares me and confuses me all at once. DeAnna. If there was one person besides me that never wanted kids, it was Johanna. And yet DeAnna was there in District 7 with no mother and no known father. Just a Capitol escort and perhaps a small community. I think back to my own childhood. DeAnna can survive, but it won't be enough. My heart goes out to her and her alone.

All too soon, I feel Peeta relax his grip on me and pull away. His eyes are as red and puffy as mine must be. He wipes away a stray tear and clears his throat.

"Do you think Haymitch and Annie know about this?" He asks, holding up the letter. I shrug, terrified at the thought of telling them. Especially Annie, who is fragile enough as it is and who still has Reap depending on her. I fear this news could send Haymitch to drink again.

"I think they should know if they don't." I say against my better judgement. "Send them that one. I don't want to see their faces." I start crying again, overcome by hysterics. Peeta calms me down a little, flicking the end of my braid in his fingers and whispering to me.

"I'll send it right now. But first, I have to ask," he starts. "Why did we get this letter?" At first, I think he's asking me some sort of deep philosophical question. Then I realize that he must not have looked at the envelope. Like a good husband, he kept his word.

"Oh, I, uh, wrote Johanna a letter about a week ago when you mailed the invitations. I wanted to…renew our friendship." I look down at my feet, ashamed at keeping secrets from Peeta.

"I love you, a lot." He says in reply. I feel his lips brush my cheek and then he's off to send the letter to Haymitch.

I collapse back onto the couch, completely exhausted. Johanna Mason, one of the strongest people I know, 2-time Hunger Games survivor, and bridesmaid at my wedding is dead.

Xx

Peeta writes a reply to Cordelia the next day, simply saying we would love to meet DeAnna sometimes in the New Year. Haymitch comes over about 4 days later, his face set in shock. We let him have a drink and stay for dinner. I tell my mother not to come over for a while. I tell her that I'm sick.

A second letter from Cordelia arrives a week later.

"Katniss and Peeta,

She would be delighted! I'll stay in touch.

District 7, Capitol Escort

Cordelia Morgane."

I nearly shut myself up in our room until its two days till the dinner party. I can hardly believe time has slipped by so quickly. I had forgotten how easily days melt into nights when one is grieving. But I can't be mourning Johanna for long now. Dinner must be attended with a smile on my face.

No matter how hard it is to keep it there.

**A/N I know it's a bit choppy and it goes through time fairly quickly. But snail mail takes time. And I have no patience! **


	23. Dinner Party: Part 1

The day of the dinner party starts with Peeta going to work, promising to leave at 5 with Thom. My mom comes over right after lunch with her arms full of vegetable platters and stew in a crock-pot. I set the table, arranging the place cards I spent nearly 2 hours on. My mother puts drinks in the fridge and makes more ice. I make sure there's enough white liquor to get Haymitch through the night – now that he's a social drinker and all.

"I take it you're feeling better." She asks me as we take a break and the food gets warmed on the stove. I want so badly to shake my head, tell her that I still feel lousy. But at the same time, I know I can't.

"Yeah, I feel great." I reply. I receive a look from my mother. Can she tell I'm lying through my teeth? I'm literally saved by the bell when someone rings at the door. I jump up to answer it, my mother hot on my heels.

"Welcome!" I exclaim heartily. Winnow has arrived about 2 hours early. "Come in, come in."

"I just wanted to know if I could borrow your kitchen to finish this salad. Haymitch's water has mysteriously shut off and my place is too far. I promise not to be any trouble." Winnow explains, stamping snow off her boots, her arms laden with vegetables and dressings.

"Oh, of course! You won't be any trouble at all!" I say, taking a head of lettuce from Winnow and leading the way.

The 3 of us talk while Winnow chops and mixes. Well, it's more that my mom and Winnow talk about mom's new job, and I silently pray that Peeta will get home soon. I'm no good at small talk.

"How is Haymitch?" Mom asks politely. I know she isn't too fond of him, but he did keep me alive in 2 Hunger Games. Winnow sighs.

"Every time I go over, he's got a bottle in his hand. And he won't talk to me." She complains. "I have no idea why." I do. I contemplate cornering Haymitch sometime tonight and tell him to stop ignoring Winnow and that she's trying to help. Then I realize I've been doing the exact same thing. Instead, I regret not being able to drink alongside him.

The next time the doorbell rings, it's Hazelle, Gale, and the kids – who I guess aren't really kids anymore. Hazelle carries in a bottle of non-alcoholic wine for me and a stack of wedding magazines. Apparently she wants my mother's opinion on center pieces.

"I told her that I wanted the primrose bouquet, but she thinks the petunias and lilies are nicer for a wedding." Gale mutters to me as he gives me a hug. I clear my throat, still on the defensive about Gale and my sister.

"I think I agree with Hazelle on this one." I try to be subtle, but Gale's jaw clenches and that's the last I hear about the wedding – at least from him.

Hazelle and mom serve wine and some of Peeta's pumpernickel and spinach dip. I try to help, but not only am I distracted, my mother _insists_ I take it easy. According to her, I look flushed. This is all fine with me. I'd rather answer the door anyway.

Peeta comes home a little after 5 with dessert. I give him a quick peck on the lips and take the cake back to the kitchen. He gives everyone a quick hello before going upstairs to shower and change. I assume Thom will be doing the same, and that he'll be here soon enough. Mostly, I'm worried about Haymitch. I can understand if he doesn't want to pretend to be happy – I know how tiring it can be – but I think company would do him some good. So, I wait for the bell to ring and listen to Hazelle, Winnow, and my mother talk about how their kids are growing up. I don't really need to be reminded.

"Oh, Peeta, look at you!" My mother exclaims, clasping her hands together. My husband has re-entered the room wearing a black suit with a tie that matches his eyes and the sheath dress I'm wearing. Peeta milks it, of course, turning in a circle for us, then taking my hand and spinning me. The women, Posy, and Vick clap. I think I hear Gale mutter that 'she's not an accessory.' Judging by Peeta's unfaltering smile and the relaxed pressure on my hand, he hasn't heard.

Then the doorbell rings and Peeta goes to get it, claiming he hasn't done anything to help yet. The next thing I know, he comes back with Thom and his girlfriend, all of them laughing so hard that they are nearly crying. As an admirable host, I stand to welcome them.

"Hey Thom," I greet, giving him a quick hug. Even though he is 14 years younger than me, he's about 3 inches taller.

"Thank you so much for inviting us," he says. Thom gets his manners from his father, who helped bring Gale to my mother after he was whipped. "This is my girlfriend, Erin." He introduces the girl who is around my height, maybe an inch shorter. She has brown hair and bright blue eyes, and she positively glows with excitement. I find myself being embraced tightly by her.

"It's so good to meet you! I'm _so_ jealous that you get to eat Peeta's baking _every day_!" She exclaims. I smile and nod.

"It's a pretty good life, isn't it?"

"Has Thom never baked for you before?" Peeta interjects, handing Thom and Erin glasses of wine and topping mine off. "He made the cake we're having for dessert. I dare you to finda difference from mine." He winks at us, gives me a kiss, then leads Thom towards his studio. Erin sips her wine as I survey the guests. Gale is teaching Posy and Vick a clapping game he must have learnt in 2; my mother pulls roast turkey from the oven for a final basting; Winnow and Hazelle flip feverishly through a bridal magazine. I try to remind myself to have fun. I notice Haymitch is about an hour and a half late. Will he ever come?

"So," I'm interrupted by Erin. "Thom tells me that you and Peeta are on your way to starting a family. Is it too soon to tell the sex?" She asks, eagerly awaiting my response. She's not just being polite; she's genuinely interested. It's the first time in a long time that I had an audience like Erin.

"Yes, it's too soon. I only found out about a month and a half ago. Peeta's ecstatic… obviously." I smile half-heartedly, questioning how happy I really am about this.

"Wow," Erin breathes. "I love kids. I know I'm only 15, but I'll be 16 in 3 months. I f you need any help, just ask!" She practically pleads, grinning ear to ear. I laugh at how cute she it.

"I will. Knowing myself, I'll need all the help I can get." I joke. Erin makes me feel so at ease. "And I'll let you in on a little secret," I say, stepping closer to her. "Age might be a number, but it doesn't represent one's ability." I say in a mock whisper. Erin smiles broadly again.

"Do you always know the right thing to say?" She asks, admiring a talent I thought only belonged to Peeta.

"Never," I reply. We both giggle and I feel like the teenage girls from my school. For once, I feel normal. I'm not the bread-winner for my family; I'm not a volunteer tribute in the brutal Hunger Games; I'm not the Mockingjay. I'm just Katniss Everdeen, enjoying the youth of a 15-almost-16 year old. It's unfamiliar, but yet not at the same time.

"Katniss," my mother comes over, disturbing our conversation. "Dinner is all set. Would you mind getting Peeta up here. I know Haymitch isn't here yet, but we'll save some roast for him when he does." She requests of me. I nod.

"Oh course. And thanks, mom, for helping me with this." I rush off to get Peeta and Thom before she can tear up or give me a hug. I want my gratitude to come across, but I don't want to get emotional tonight. Not after the good mood Erin has put me in.

I knock softly on the door of Peeta's studio. It isn't closed all the way so I quietly enter. I expect to find Peeta showing Thom the plethora of sketches he has. But they aren't in here. And what I see completely shocks me. Usually I find myself staring back at me. Or I'm taken back to the Arena or the Rebellion. I've even seen Rue and Prim's big eyes, crying out for help that I can't give them. Nothing can brace me for this, though. Johanna.

All around me, I see her slender face, sometimes framed by long brown hair and other times she's nearly bald. I see her wearing her costume for the tribute parade, talking to Chaff and Finnick; see her running through the green of a forest, turning back for one last look; see her holding a bundle of pink blankets, her brown eyes wet with tears. I notice Peeta hasn't tried to paint DeAnna. He can't picture her and neither can I.

Suddenly, I can't stand, I can't support myself. I sink into Peeta's choir, taking shuddering breaths. Her face swims before me. I can feel myself breaking on the inside. I'm not sure how long I sit there and cry. It could be seconds or hours, maybe all night. Eventually, I hear someone knock softly on the door. Turning, I make out Erin standing in the doorway.

"Oh, sorry," I apologize, trying to pull myself together. "I was supposed to get Peeta and Thom for dinner." I sound like an idiot.

"They were downstairs. I went and told them." Erin explains softly, walking slowly towards me. She sits on a bench across from me. "Who is she?" She asks, looking around at the paintings.

"A friend," I reply, as vague as possible. Erin nods. Maybe it's because I need to talk, or maybe because Erin makes me feel so comfortable but I burst into an anecdote. I tell her about my first real meeting with Johanna. How angry she made me feel, how incompetent I was. And then I find myself telling her how we became friends – almost family – during the Rebellion. Erin listens intently. It must seem like nonsense to her. She's not old enough to know what I'm talking about – she wouldn't remember it at all. But she listens and that's all I need.

Once I'm done, she stands and holds out a hand to me. I take it, suddenly finding myself in a vice-like hug.

"I don't know what it's like to lose a friend or someone you love. But I do know that it's difficult to say goodbye." Erin says in my ear. Her voice catches. "Don't think of it as truly saying goodbye. You'll see her again – someday." These words set me crying again. Erin lets me cry into her shoulder. It's not Peeta and it's not Haymitch, but it's someone who cares.

"Katniss?" Peeta's voice calls from down the hallway. I guess a search-party gets sent out if the hostess is missing for dinner. I separate from Erin, wiping my eyes. I notice Erin swipe at a couple tears as well.

"In here, Peeta!" I clear my throat and try to walk confidently out. The look of shock on Peeta's face almost hurts me. "Sorry, I thought you were showing Thom your studio." I apologize for the second time.

"It's fine," Peeta takes my hand and pulls me out of the studio. Erin follows closely behind. He locks the door behind us. "You're going to be okay?" He asks me, putting a hand on the small of my back.

"Mm-hm," Is all I can say. A silence follows, along with a nervous glance from Peeta at me.

"You're very good at painting, Peeta." Erin jumps in. "Although, I guess it's not a surprise – not after seeing your frosting skills." She's a better conversationalist than my husband.

"Oh, thanks," Peeta leads the way to the dining room.

"What kind of paint do you use? My brother paints and he's always preferred water-colour." Erin continues. This sets Peeta off rambling about the pros and cons of acrylic versus water-colour versus pastels.

"Thank you," I mouth to Erin. She smiles and nods in acknowledgement.

Upon arriving in the dining room, I notice several things in rapid succession. 1) My help hasn't been needed yet. The food is all arranged nicely and everyone is talking amiably while waiting. 2) The heads of the table are reserved for Peeta and I. Gale sits beside where my name card is. 3) Erin is seated on my other side. 4) Haymitch as yet to make an appearance.

And even for him, 3 hours is unreasonably late.

**A/N: I was away on a school trip for 10 days and I've been catching up on school since then. That's my excuse this time for such a late chapter!**

**Thank you reader for reading (and hopefully reviewing!) You mean so much to me, whoever you are.**

**Last thing: if you can find the glaring mistake I have made regarding canon math, you get 10 bonus points in life.**


	24. Dinner Party: Part 2

Dinner resumes normally. Erin asks Gale and me about hunting. It's easier to be roped into this conversation than to start it. But Erin knows how to make people feel at home. She could be the next Caesar Flickerman. My mind keeps wandering to Haymitch, wondering how he's doing, _what_ he's doing.

"Earth to Katniss," Gale waves a hand in front of my face. I snap back to the present.

"Sorry, what?" I blush as Gale laughs.

"Keep your head outta the clouds." He teases. "Erin was just wondering if you could teach her the words to some of the songs you know." I turn to Erin and smile.

"Sure, do you sing?" I ask, going back to eating.

"Not usually. But I play the piano." She replies.

"You should play for us." Gale suggests. "Didn't the house come with a grand piano?" He directs this question to me. I just nod.

"My sister tried to learn… she was better at the flute." This sounds depressing so I lighten my tone. "You can use it if you want." Gale stands, his plate clean.

"How about right now?" He addresses the rest of the table. "Time for some pre-dessert entertainment! Erin's going to play us some piano music." The women clap in excitement. Everyone rises; Gale looks happier than he has all night. It's almost like nothing has changed since we were kids. _Almost._ "Peeta, lead the way!" He calls down the table. I bring up the rear.

We all settle down in the un-used room with the piano. I sit next to Peeta on the couch, his arms around me. I rest my head under his chin, feeling full and drowsy. I tuck my legs up on the couch.

"This is like our Victory interview." Peeta tells me. "I know that's real." He smiles when I sit up to look at him. I kiss him until Erin starts to play.

It's a slow piece with a lilting tune. It bitter sweetly reminds me of my father, but I'm not sure why.

Suddenly, Peeta is humming along. He's quiet enough that I'm sure I'm the only who can hear him. I can't quite place how he knows it.

"Sing along," he whispers in my ear. Do I know this song? And even if I did – which I don't – I haven't sung in front of anyone in years. Before I can formulate an appropriate response, I hear Gale start to sing, his elbows resting on his knees. I haven't heard Gale sing before. He has a bass voice that resonates through the room, despite the fact that he's singing quietly.

"Walking through the woods,

Stop and listen to the trees.

Hear the blue-birds calling

Sweet melodies."

Finally, I recognize the tune. I can barely remember hearing my dad whistling it before he went to the mines every morning. I've never heard words before, though.

"But there's one that calls sweeter,

And she asks me to stay

She's the one they all know of,

She's Miss Mockingjay."

I sit up straighter at the mention of this bird. Gale looks directly at me, and as the next verse starts, I involuntarily start humming along with Peeta.

"Whistling 'long beside her,

She sings of sadness and of sorrow.

My heart begins to bleed.

There's no hope for tomorrow."

Peeta knows the second chorus. His voice joins Gale's.

"But she tells me there is now.

And she's flown here today

To bring us our freedom.  
>She's Miss Mockingjay."<p>

Erin plays the last chord of the song and everyone bursts into applause. I notice Gale trying to hide his tears. Something tells me that the words are much newer than the notes.

"That was beautiful!" Hazelle exclaims. Thom stands to kiss Erin. I hesitantly lean back against Peeta again. It's the strangest sensation. To have a song from my past come back with words. And words that mean something to me, no less. It's eerie that Peeta, Gale, and Erin know it nearly by heart.

"Play something upbeat! Play "Dashing White Sergeant." Thom requests. Erin smiles and turns back to the piano. An up-beat tune starts. It's supposed to be a dance, but I still feel weird.

Gale pulls Posy up to dance with him. Peeta takes my hand and we dance too, my mind on a different planet entirely.

"Are you feeling okay?" Peeta murmurs to me so no one else can hear.

"I'm… I'm just worried about Haymitch." I half-lie. I am worried, but it's not what I was thinking about.

"I'll go check on him after this song." Peeta reassures me. I fake a smile until the song is over. Erin is a music magician. Not even Prim could play like she can. The applause is extraordinary. Erin plays along and makes a dramatic bow.

"Dessert?" Peeta asks. He gets another round of applause. The cake Thom made looks absolutely delicious. Peeta and Winnow cut pieces for everyone. It's lemon cake with raspberry frosting. Peeta cuts an extra piece. "For Haymitch," he says, making his exit. Once he leaves, I dig in. There really isn't a difference between Peeta's baking and Thom's.

I'm just starting to feel contently full, when the phone rings. I start to rise, but my mother waves me back down. I hear her talking to someone but I don't focus on anything she says. Until she comes back in.

"I hate to end the party so suddenly, but I just got off the phone with Peeta. He has a message for Erin, Thom, and Gale. He said it's important." She looks both stern and apologetic. Hazelle and Winnow catch on immediately. They give me a hug, shoot my mother a look that says 'call-us-when-you-can' and they leave.

Gale is at my mother's side in an instant. Erin and Thom both hesitate, but they stand to receive their message from Peeta. I'm frozen in fear. Every bad scenario runs through my head.

"Katniss?" My mother kneels beside me. I can already feel tears prick my eyes. There can only be bad news. "Honey, Haymitch had a heart attack. I'm going over there now with Thom and Gale. Erin's going to stay here with you. It's going to be okay." She reaches out to stroke my hair as this information settles in.

"Heart attack?" I ask numbly.

"Yes, I have to go now. Stay here, okay?" She asks of me. I nod. She stands, preparing to leave. Erin and Thom separate from a hug and kiss. Gale holds his hand out to me. I don't think about not taking it. He pulls me up and holds me.

"We'll call as soon as we can." He promises. The 3 of them leave. Now it's just Erin and me. She heads to the kitchen without saying anything. She comes back with 2 cups of tea.

"Thanks," I say, my voice thick.

"I don't know what to say, Katniss." I look up to see her in tears. "I can't tell you that he'll be okay, because he might not me. I'm sorry." The girl who cares so much can't accept this.

"It's fine, Erin. He'll be okay. He's tough." I comfort her in probably the least comforting way. For the next 5 minutes, we just sip our tea and wait for the phone to ring. Eventually, I get out a pack of playing cards. We play simple games like Go Fish and Old Maid. It's only to take our minds off the emergency that's going on down the street.

Finally… finally! The phone rings after an hour of waiting.

"Peeta's on his way." Gale sounds tired, almost like he's given up.

"How is he?" I ask, terrified of the answer. But I need to know.

"Peeta will tell you." That's all he says before he hangs up and leaves me with a dial tone. Erin looks at me expectantly.

"I don't know," I reply to the question I know is hanging on her lips. "Let's put these away." With shaking hands, we organize the cards into a pile; smoothly and methodically. I hear the front door open and then close.

"Katniss?" Peeta hollers.

"In here," I stand up, preparing myself for the news. Before I can even think of what to ask him first, he wraps him arms around me.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay…" he repeats, but the more he says it, the less convinced he seems of it. For the first time, I do start to cry. It doesn't sound good. I want to ask what happened, but when Peeta pulls away, he turns to Erin.

"I'm going to walk you home, okay? It's pretty dark out." Erin doesn't complain like I know I would have at her age. "I'll be home soon. Try to get some sleep." He tells me, leaving me with a kiss. I listen – for once in my life. I change out of my dress and take my hair out. He's still not back so I turn off the lights and crawl into bed. I hate how easily I fall asleep.

Xx

The next time I wake up, it's dark and the house is silent. I turn over to see Peeta lying on his back, eyes open. I curl into him, my head on his shoulders. I feel him rest his head on mine. I wonder if I should ask him about earlier… or is it yesterday by now. A look at our alarm clock tells me its 2 hours into the New Year.

"Happy New Year," I murmur.

"And yet," he starts, "It doesn't seem so 'happy.'" I don't say anything. I wait for him to tell me. He breathes so deeply that I check to make sure he's still awake. "I can't repeat it. I'm sorry." He finally says, closing his eyes as if that puts me more at ease.

"Why not?" I ask. Any kind of answer is good to me.

"I've said it all 3 times already." He informs me. Doesn't make a difference to me. Once more won't kill him.

"Just tell me he's alive, please." I beg, propping myself up on my elbows.

"He's alive." Relief floods through me.

"Oh thank God," I mutter. Peeta looks at me, his expression hurt.

"Was barely alive when I got there," he almost accuses me for not knowing. I wrap my arms around Peeta's neck, kissing the side of his head and his cheek until he starts talking again.

"I knocked and no one answered, so I went straight in – like we used to when he was perpetually drunk." Peeta clears his throat at this point. "I kept calling his name and he still didn't answer. I found him lying on the couch, wearing his suit, his hand over his heart. I thought he was just sleeping, but his face… it was so contorted in pain. I couldn't even touch him – feel for a pulse – I was so scared. So I called here." By now, Peeta is nearly sobbing. I gently kiss him again. If I was scared, Peeta was terrified ten times over.

"It's over now," I whisper to him. "My mom will take care of him. He'll be fine." Peeta nods, only half-convinced.

For a few minutes, we're both lost in our own worry. Neither of us speak; we barely move.

"He's alive… he's alive…" Peeta starts saying out loud to himself. This is my lullaby as I drift into an uneasy sleep. No nightmares. But then again, I feel as if I'm living in one.

**A/N To hear a horrible rendition of the song featured in this chapter click on this link: **** watch?v=OyLXkwZ6fGI ****I apologize in advance for it. I don't particularly enjoy this chapter, but I hope you do.  
>Out of curiosity, does anyone have any favourite moments from this chapter? Or from the whole thing thus far? I'd be really happy to see them! Thank you all so much! <strong>


	25. First Argument in Years

When we wake up, children are screaming and laughing in the street again. It makes me want to shout at them. They can't be happy and carefree because it feels like I'll never be happy and carefree ever again.

"I'm staying in bed today," Peeta groans. But the more he wants to sit around and mope, the more I need to be doing something.

"I'm going to see Haymitch," I inform him, digging through our drawers to find something to wear. "Are you coming or really staying here?" I ask. He takes a minute to seriously debate this. After seeing Haymitch in that condition last night, I wouldn't blame him for staying home. It's not going to be easy for me either.

"I guess I'll go." Peeta says. I'm already dressed when he comes to this conclusion. I braid my hair while he looks for clothes. We're both so scared and upset – and still exhausted – that we both only manage a piece of toast for breakfast.

"Whatever happens, whatever he's like, you have to remember how much we both love you. Never forget that." He says to me as I button up my coat to leave.

"It'll be fine." I reply. We don't bother locking the door behind us. "And I've never forgotten." I remind him. It's always been him who's forgotten. I don't say this out loud though. Neither of us needs to have an argument.

Peeta opens the door to Haymitch's house when we get there. We remove our boots, hang up our coats, and take a deep breath. I have no idea what to expect. Heart attacks don't have gruesome physical symptoms. I figure he'll be in pain, but how long does the pain last?

"Hello?" Peeta calls out. He takes my hand in his, squeezing tightly.

"Oh, it's you two," my mother appears from around a corner. She certainly hasn't slept much. "He's awake now if you want to see him. I need to run home and get some more morphling for him. He'll be so happy to see you." She explains. As she passes us, she gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I guess we should go see him." I announce after we've stood in the hallway for a minute. Peeta leads the way to the living-room where my mother had come from. There is he.

Lying on the brown leather couch with a blanket tucked almost right up to his chin, is Haymitch. He looks surprisingly normal, just like he's had one too many drinks.

"Well, well, well," Haymitch smiles when he see us. "How are my kids?" He winks at me. I walk to his side, take his hand in mine. It's thin and weak, instead of calloused and tough.

"We're good," I say automatically. "More importantly, how are you?" I can feel my voice start to shake.

"I'll live, sweetheart. Just an annoying pain in my chest." Behind this curtain of bravery, I can see how scared he is. 'Annoying' my ass. If it wasn't for the morphling, he'd be screaming or have passed out by now.

"Have you eaten today?" Peeta asks. He's hanging back, somewhat afraid to get too close.

"I just woke up," Haymitch explains. "Listen, Peeta, I'm sorry about –"

"Haymitch, don't." Peeta interrupts, his tone unlike something I've ever heard come from Peeta's mouth. It's dangerous and terrified and begging for attention. I glare at him over my shoulder. Today isn't about pitying Peeta. It's about Haymitch's heart and how it's threatening to kill him.

"No, I haven't eaten." Haymitch repeats, taken aback by Peeta's order.

"I'll get you something." I offer, standing up and letting go of his hand.

"Winnow did the shopping two days ago. Everything should still be fresh. Thank you," I walk past Peeta, giving him the cold shoulder, wishing he would decide to be helpful at some point today.

Instead of making him soup or a sandwich, I find the inevitable leftovers in the fridge for Haymitch and start heating them up in the microwave. Silently, Peeta enters the kitchen just as I'm pouring some Scotch into a glass.

"Katniss, what are you thinking? He can't have that." Peeta objects as I screw the lid back on the Scotch.

"It's for me." I say, putting the alcohol back in a cupboard and reaching for the glass. Before I can take a much-needed gulp, Peeta grabs it from me. The drink sloshes over the sides as it goes from my possession to Peeta's. "What the hell?" I demand.

"You're pregnant, remember?" Peeta reminds me. This almost seems irrelevant.

"I'm also this close to losing one of my best friends." I hold my thumb and index finger an inch apart. "While still grieving the loss of another. Giver it back!" Anger boils up inside me for what seems like a justifiable reason at the time, but isn't.

In a desperate attempt to do something, Peeta downs the Scotch nearly in one. I look at him, my mouth open in shock.

"Peeta! If I can't drink it, neither can you!" I object.

"I'm not carrying another life inside me." Peeta points his whole hand at me.

"That's low!" I yell, my voice getting louder. "This obviously wasn't _my_ choice!" I wince internally as I say it. But I can't take it back now.

"Not your choice? What is your choice, then? Killing it before it's born?" The volume of Peeta's voice matches mine.

"Shut up, Peeta! You don't understand what the past few weeks have been like for me!"

"I don't understand? I've been going through the same things as you! But I can't fake sick to avoid people like you do! I had to go to work and worry. If anything, you don't understand me!" When he finishes, I'm so pissed at him that I could throw something – anything – at him.

I'm about to retort when Haymitch's voice suddenly fills the room.

"Hey sweetheart?" It scares me half to death.

"Oh my god…" I mutter, jumping "What?" I snap at him without meaning to. His voice comes from the intercom system that's set up throughout the house.

"Let him win this argument. Now bring me some lunch." I hate that he's taking Peeta's side in this, but I can't be angry with Haymitch for too long. He did just have a heart attack after all. I grab the plate of leftovers and stalk past Peeta.

"I get to talk to Haymitch first… without you listening in." I hiss at him. It's times like this that I do regret being pregnant. I wouldn't have yelled at Peeta if I wasn't.

"Thank you," Haymitch attempts to sit up but then grimaces and some sort of heart monitor starts beeping.

"Just relax," I say, an edge of panic in my voice. He relaxes into the pillows behind him. "I'll do it for you." I pick up the fork and spear a piece of chicken with it.

"You know, you really shouldn't pick fights with your husband." Haymitch says before his mouth is full of chicken. I sigh. Is there no one that won't pick on my today?

"It's not really any of your business." I say quietly. All the fight as left me. Haymitch swallows with difficulty.

"You're right on that one. But you haven't been the only one suffering." He continues. "I know you don't want to hear this, but I think you need to apologize to Peeta. I don't know what you _really_ think of this baby, but he really wants it. He's just looking out for you."

"Maybe if he looked out for me in a less annoying way, I wouldn't mind." I grumble.

"Katniss," Haymitch's voice is suddenly clear and stern. "I don't know if it's shock or lack of sleep or just your hormones – maybe it's all three – but I'd really appreciate it if you dropped the attitude." He's back to his old surly self, telling me like it is. I set the plate down on the table. "I'm on my death bed and you're fighting with Peeta… it's selfish!" For him, this comment is probably off-hand and humorous.

"Don't say that ever again!" I exclaim, falling to my knees, starting to cry. "You aren't on your death-bed! You're going to live to see this baby born and grow up. You're going to be there for Peeta and me, and help us figure out how to be parents. We're a team, remember?" I ask tearfully.

Haymitch pats my head, muttering something about 'definitely hormones.' It makes me cry even more.

"I'm sorry," he eventually says to make me stop blubbering. "And now since I've apologized, go do the same for Peeta." He makes me stand, lets me wipe away my tears. "You two never fight anymore. I'd hate to see you start again now." He's certainly exhausted by now. I nod, but he's closed his eyes already so I'm not sure if he sees me.

As quietly as I can, I go back to find Peeta. He's still in the kitchen, sitting at the table looking slightly queasy.

"Peeta?" I say timidly. He looks up but waits for me to continue. "Look, I'm sorry for those things I said and… tried to do. The truth is, I'm scared now more than ever to have this baby. If Johanna could leave hers so easily and suddenly, can I? I don't think I can bear one more person leaving me. Not after I've become so attacked to them. Please forgive me," I plead. For someone who isn't good with words, I've stunned him into silence.

"K-Katniss?" He stammers.

"Yeah?"

"Don't take this the wrong way… but I think I'm going to be sick." It's as if saying it makes it happen. Peeta vomits all over the kitchen floor, making me cringe. I side-step the pool of puke to rub his back.

"What happened? Do you have the flu?" I ask once he's stopped. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.

"I just chugged a glass of Scotch… that's all." He pauses, coughing but not retching. "You're welcome," he starts laughing and I know our fight has been settled. I kiss his cheek and make him sit down.

"Whatever you're doing to my kitchen, clean it up." Haymitch says through the intercom. I get out a mop and clean up.

Peeta wants to talk to Haymitch as well, but Haymitch is asleep when we go back to the living-room. So we sit on an armchair – me on Peeta's lap – and just talk. How long has it been since we've just talked? Too long. We avoid the subject of Haymitch and Johanna, and of Gale and our baby. My new favourite topic is Erin. She's apparently my new best friend and Peeta approves.

"You're still here?" My mother comes back looking refreshed and clean.

"Didn't want to leave him alone." Peeta replies. "We'll leave you to your nursing duties." I get up first, followed by Peeta. Goodbyes are exchanged and Haymitch receives more sedatives and painkillers.

As we walk home, carefully picking our way past the slippery spots, Peeta brings up my apology.

"You are 100% forgiven." He assures me. "Mostly because I love you, but also because I've forgotten how to be angry with you." I smile softly at this.

"That was our first argument in years." I agree.

"What was the last one about, do you remember?" He asks, starting up our porch steps.

"Probably something like what to do with Prim's old room." I reply. Memories of when we first officially moved in together come flooding back. I wanted to keep the door locked forever, but Peeta was adamant that we needed to clean some of the stuff out.

"Wow, good thing we have arguments over really stupid things. Otherwise our relationship wouldn't be such smooth sailing." Peeta says sarcastically. I smack him playfully on the arm.

"Watch it, Mellark." I tease him. "According to Haymitch, I have wild hormones today. You don't want to mess with me."

"I love you," Peeta sighs, pulling me towards him.

"I only moderately like you," I say, joking completely and he knows it. He kisses me, then promises to sketch me today. He says I'm 'absolutely glowing!'

This somewhat concerns me. I'm glowing while Haymitch is suffering. And it's a guilt-trip like this that makes me go back to bed and sleep until dinner.


	26. Happiness

Peeta draws me anyway. He calls it "Miss Mockingjay" because you see the hope on my face when it shouldn't exist. Just like the song, the bird, and the Rebellion. I try not to encourage it, but Peeta can be just as stubborn as me.

Dinner that night is pea soup. I eat as much as I can, but my stomach is in knots. Peeta doesn't try to start a conversation. Even though Haymitch appeared better this morning, I know last night is still running through Peeta's mind.

"Are you working tomorrow?" I ask once my bowl is mostly clean. I pick at a roll that doesn't have butter on it yet.

"Yeah, there are a couple birthday cakes I have left to finish. And I gave Thom the week off." He explains. I nod.

"I'm going to go visit Haymitch again." I say. Half of me is glad that Peeta won't be there because I want our conversation to be private. But half of me is also scared that something will go wrong and he won't be there to help.

"Will you be okay there by yourself?" He voices my thoughts. "You won't drink or… or smoke? Do anything to hurt yourself or our baby?" I sigh. It's been a very long day. I don't even want to think about what my actions will be tomorrow.

"I'll be fine." I say wearily. Peeta pushes back his chair and gets up. He stands behind me, rubbing my shoulders, giving me a very relaxing and needed massage.

"I know you will be." He says, kissing the top of my head.

By the time we both go up to bed, I'm feeling better about the current situations. And Peeta is too, unless he's suddenly become some amazing actor. He lays a hand on my stomach.

"Goodnight baby," he murmurs, burying his face in my hair. I smile half-heartedly, glad he can't see it.

XX 

I don't bother doing my hair up the next day. It's just Haymitch. He won't mind what I look like. I'm out the door before I have time to see Peeta, much less say anything to him. We'll both be too busy today to think of each other.

Just like yesterday, I don't knock when I get to Haymitch's. It seems like Winnow is back. Her shoes lay at the door and her coat hangs on a hook. I put my stuff next to hers and head to the living-room where I assume Haymitch still is. Winnow sits in a chair beside his couch.

"Oh, good morning, Katniss." She greets, almost dropping her knitting when she sees me.

"Hi, Winnow. Hey, Haymitch." I turn to the man on the couch who, if anything, looks weaker than he did yesterday. He slowly nods his head in a silent greeting. I shift nervously from foot to foot. Is he getting worse? Did he have another heart attack?

"I'll give you two some privacy." Winnow offers, picking up the yarn and half-finished sock. I take her seat, unsure of what to say. Haymitch finds his voice and fills the silence.

"I'm just coming off an anesthetic. I'll be fine in a minute." He explains groggily. I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans as I wait for him to speak again. When he does, his voice is quiet but still belongs to him. Today, it's comforting.

"How are you?" He asks.

"If you're talking about my fight with Peeta, it's over. We aren't fighting anymore." I reply. He nods, considering my words.

"Why did you come here?" His question catches me off guards. "Aside from wanting to know I was okay." He adds. I don't reply because I'm not sure if I can bring up this conversation yet. He takes my silence as denial. "I've known you for fifteen years, Katniss. I've seen you fight in two Hunger Games, and incite and lead a Rebellion. I know how you think. There's something on your mind." He pushes.

"Johanna," I blurt out before my brain can stop me. Haymitch shifts on the couch, trying to sit up. I give him my arm to prop himself up.

"Let's talk about that. Right now. No running away from it." He orders. I comply because I don't have much choice. For a minute, we both try to collect our thoughts.

"Why did she do it?" I ask first. It's the question that's been burning in my heart for weeks.

"She had to." Is his quick response.

"No, she didn't. She didn't have to leave us like that. She didn't have to abandon the people who loved her. There was always a choice for her!" I argue, getting suddenly defensive for no reason. Haymitch is patient for once.

"She didn't have anyone who loved her. We were all here, in 12, and no one in 7 wanted to get close to her. And when you don't have anyone to love or be loved by, your mind falls into some sort of depression. Johanna's not one to drink." He grumbles the last part. It reminds me that Haymitch has been through what Johanna dealt with.

"But… she didn't even try!" It's unfair of me to accuse her of not trying, but if Haymitch is still alive and (mostly) well, she should be too.

"She tried so hard. Almost got married, last I really heard from her. But the guy – biggest jerk ever – called it off because he didn't want to spend the rest of his live with her. That tears a person up inside." Tears come to both our eyes and I don't question how he know this. "When you don't remember what there is good in life, you lose your mind. She could have tried harder than you can imagine, but there's a point of no return. Understand?"

"I will," I reply. It's a lot to digest all at once.

"She was strong. Remember her that way." I feel almost like I'm being scolded. I let tears slide down my cheek.

"Like there's any other way to remember her." I admit. Haymitch reaches a hand over to pat my knee.

"I miss her, too." And then, I let myself really cry. There's nothing Haymitch can do to stop it. "I know…" he says.

"I'm sorry," I say amidst my tears. "She did what I could never do. She's done what I'm going through… and she's not even here to talk to." I sob.

"What do you mean? What are you going through?" Over his concern for me, his heart beats faster and I hear it on some machine.

"My pregnancy, Haymitch," I reassure him. He just gives me a quizzical look.

"Johanna doesn't have kids." He objects. I realize then that no one has told Haymitch about DeAnna. And maybe with his heart so unstable, I shouldn't be telling him now, but I do it anyway.

"She does." I start. "Peeta must not have told you. It was in the letter we got from Cordelia Morgane." The machine that tracks Haymitch's heart activity doesn't change, but Haymitch's face pales and he looks more confused than ever before.

"What's her name?" He asks.

"DeAnna. She's 12 years old." I reply, putting a hand on my stomach. Could my own child be 12 someday and be an orphan? Am I bringing a person into a world of suffering and depression?

"Write them back. I want to meet her." He orders of me.

"You aren't well enough, Haymitch." I say. He shrugs in response to this.

"Then be prepared for when I am." He yawns and I take this as an opportunity to let him rest. I stand to go. "Katniss," he says, making me stop and listen. "You aren't like Johanna. Nothing will ever make you leave your kids. At least not by choice." I nod, turning to leave again. I remember what Annie told me a month ago. _Nothing you do for the safety of your child is wrong._ If Johanna was sick enough to kill herself, then she was too sick to be looking after a little girl. In the end, I know Johanna did it for DeAnna, too.

I know from experience what it's like having a depressed mother. It was smart of Johanna to end it. She just saved DeAnna years of grief and neglect.

When I get home, I make a casserole for dinner and then eat a ham sandwich for lunch. Then I call the doctor to set up another appointment. I want to make sure the baby is healthy.

All of a sudden, I want to do everything I can to protect it and make it feel loved. I want it to be happy.

**A/N Sorry this chapter has been a long time coming. Happy first year anniversary to this story! **


	27. Erin

I set up the doctor's appointment for a week later. I promised Haymitch he could come to the next one. It's amazing how fast he recovers when I tell him he has seven days. The man is up and walking in five.

On the day of the appointment, Peeta makes me French toast for breakfast. He has to go to work this morning, but he promises to come get me for the appointment. I decide to spend the morning with Erin. Her house is only three blocks away from ours. She answers the door and lets me in.

"Katniss, welcome!" She beams. I step in, noting the pictures hanging on the wall. It's the dominant feature in this part of the house. The door opens into an open-concept kitchen, with three doors that lead to bedrooms. Down the hallway is a living-room.

"How about I give you the grand tour?" Erin laughs. She knows it won't be as grand as my Victor's home.

The kitchen is quaint, with a wood stove and round wooden table to eat at. The pictures on the wall are amazing. The whole wall is filled with frames. Pictures of Erin and people I assume are her family, pictures of two dogs, old newspaper clippings of the restoration of Panem. There's something from everything here.

"Is this your brother?" I ask, pointing to a picture of Erin and a younger boy with the same brown eyes and round face.

"Yup, that's Nicolas. He's 14," Erin points him out in a few other photos.

"So these must be your parents?" It's a picture of Erin, Nicolas, and two adults.

"Aunt and Uncle," she explains. "My parents died in the Rebellion. Just after Nicolas was born." The poor girl sounds distant.

"I'm sorry, Erin." I say, trying to find any other pictures of them.

"It's not your fault." She says. It feels like it is, though. I started the Rebelliion, the war. Erin might still have parents if I weren't so defiant. "Besides, they always wanted to fight. Aunt Linda said they always dreamed of finishing off the Capitol. They just weren't brave enough to do what you did." She continues.

"I didn't do anything." I tell her.

"Yes, you did. You started it all." She argues. I shake my head.

"You didn't see my Games. It was my idea to save myself that got everyone thinking they could rebel. It was just the stupid example." I'm almost bitter about it.

"In any case, I know my parents died for a good cause. I hardly knew them. There's not much to miss." Erin goes on, ignoring my rude comment. We continue on past the wall to the three doors. The first one is the bathroom. It's small and simple, like the one we used to have in the Seam. The next is a bedroom with a bed big enough for two and a wooden chest of drawers.

"This is Aunt Linda and Uncle Roy's room." Erin says.

"Where are they?" I ask as we leave. Erin closes the door behind her.

"Aunt Linda is a cleaning lady for people in town. Uncle Roy is a carpenter. They'll both be home in time for dinner. Like always," I'm told. The question crosses my mind about what Erin and Nicolas did when they were younger and got back to an empty house.

Apparently my mouth poses the question without me realizing, because Erin is answering it.

"We lived in District 13 until I was six. Then we came back to start Nicolas in school. Our neighbours made sure we got home okay and Aunt Linda left food for me to heat up before they got home. Their hours were longer back then so we could pay for the house." Erin shrugs. "They don't want me to work until I'm done school." She adds. Except they've been making her cook meals and look after Nicolas for the past ten years. Even I didn't have to hunt and support my family until I was twelve.

"Do you still struggle with money?" I ask. This family doesn't deserve to suffer like this. And if it was my actions that killed their parents, then it's my responsibility to make sure they are comfortable.

"Not anymore, no." Erin replies. She opens the door to the last room. It's got two single beds pushed against opposite walls. There's one desk and one wardrobe." Not since I started dating Thom and he gives us half his paycheck." My eyes widen at this. "This is my room." 

"Hold on!" I interrupt. "You mean to tell me that when Thom gets paid at the end of the month, you get half of that?" Erin nods. "What about his family?" Before replying, Erin leads the way to the living-room so we can sit down.

"You know his father, right?" Thom Sr., Gale's friend from school.

"Yes," I say.

"Well, after the Rebellion, Thom's father took it upon himself to go through all the papers in the Mayor's office. Thom said he got it all organized and started up an election. The Mayor who won gave him an incredible amount of money. The only reason Thom works at the bakery is because his dad wants him to learn responsibility and hard work. Besides, Thom loves working at the bakery." Erin picks at a fraying blanket as she speaks.

"I wasn't aware of any of that." I struggle to keep up. Around the time that Thom Sr. was doing this, I was hiding away at home. The things one misses when they block out life.

"It's fine. Thom doesn't really go around spreading how much money he has." Erin pulls her feet up onto the couch. "How's Haymitch?" She asks, visibly wanting to change the subject.

"A lot better. He's going to come with us to the doctor's today." I try to keep my voice normal. I keep thinking about Erin's parents, her childhood, her boyfriend.

"That's good. Every time I ask Thom about it, he changes the subject on me." Erin pretends to pout. I laugh.

"He sounds like Peeta. Boys just _have_ to protect us from the truth apparently." I say. Now it's Erin's turn to laugh. Somewhere, a cuckoo clock goes off. It chimes twelve times.

"I guess that's my signal to leave." I say, standing up. I promised Peeta I'd be home by a quarter after. Erin stands with me, giving me a hug goodbye.

"Good luck at your appointment." She lets me go and leads the way to the door.

"Thanks Erin. And thanks for letting me come over. Next time, I'll take you to the woods." I wrap a scarf tightly around my neck.

"Really?" Erin's eyes light up. She's obviously never been outside the District.

"Of course. I'll teach you how to shoot." This sends Erin into a fit of excitement. She reaches out to hug me again.

"That sounds incredibly perfect!" With one last goodbye, I head out, hurrying home.

Peeta and Haymitch are already waiting on the front porch for me when I get back.

"Ready? Peeta takes my mittened hand in his.

"Yeah, ready as I'll ever be." We start off toward the doctor's office. We go slow for Haymitch who has to stop and take at least two breaks. Peeta swings our arms back and forth happily. He couldn't be more excited for this. I have to smile at the look of pure joy on his face.

The waiting room is a little more bearable this time. My knees bounce up and down with nerves. Peeta takes my hand, kissing it and giving it a squeeze. My knees stop momentarily.

In a couple minutes, they start again. It's Haymitch who reaches out to put a hand on them.

"Give it a rest, sweetheart." He says. Just then, the doctor comes, calling us in. I lay down on the table like last time. Peeta stands beside me, holding my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine. Haymitch takes a seat on a chair. He's doing so well, but I know he's tired.

"You're in your tenth week, so we'll be able to hear the baby's heart beat today." The doctor says. This scares me, but Peeta kisses my cheek in anticipation. Haymitch leans forward as the doctor puts the monitor on my bare stomach.

It sounds like rapid knocking, the heartbeat. It's faster than I thought it would be. Everything feels so real all of a sudden. Tears blur my vision as I feel Peeta's hand slip out of mine.

"It's happening," his voice sounds so far away, but I can hear the fear in it. "It's happening again." I blink and look at him. He's tense, so tense.

"H-Haymitch," I say, starting to sit up. Peeta moves quickly, striding to the door. He hesitates, his hand on the doorknob. Good sense comes through and he wrenches open the door, running off in a huff. Haymitch takes his place beside me.

"You've gotta let him go." He says, stroking my hair. "He'll be back when he's safe." I lean back, letting the doctor finish his examination.

"Everything looks good. I'll see you in another month." I get up quickly, pulling my shirt down. Peeta's not in the waiting room. I notice his coat and boots are gone. Haymitch puts his arm around me.

"He'll be back when he's safe." He repeats.

The only thing is, Peeta _is_ safe.

At least, he was supposed to be.

**A/N Please review! Love you guys!**


	28. Missing

Haymitch promises to walk me home. I'd rather be alone right now, but I know it wouldn't be safe or smart to go by myself. There's silence as we walk. I wish I could stop at the memorial and talk to Prim, but my priority is clear: Peeta.

When we get home, Haymitch makes me wait outside while he makes sure it's safe. I stand shivering with cold and fear. Only five minutes later, he comes back out, ordering me inside. He's pale and I'm afraid he's going to have another heart attack.

"Is he okay? Are_ you_ okay?" I ask, taking my coat off and dropping it on the ground.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he tries to regain his composure, get some colour back into his face. He refrains from answering my first question as he directs me upstairs to my room.

"What about Peeta?" I ask again. Haymitch makes me sit down on the bed.

"Don't you dare leave this room." He warns, pointing a finger at me.

"But what about –" I'm cut short by the door slamming shut. I'm not sure whether to cry or fume. So, I wrap my arms protectively around my stomach and try not to think about anything.

About half an hour later, someone knocks softly on the door of the bedroom. I run to open it, hoping it's Peeta. It isn't. My mother wraps me into a hug, her arms shaking but trying to be strong.

"Why don't you come downstairs with me?" She says in lieu of a greeting.

"Peeta…" I start. My mother shushes me, taking my hand.

"Don't worry about it for now. Just come have some lunch downstairs." She says. We go to the kitchen where someone has already laid out salad and chicken. Like any mother would, she serves me as much as can fit on the plate. "Here you go," I accept the plate and sit down.

"Thanks," I say, even though I'd rather be doing anything than eating. I give up on asking about Peeta. Apparently I won't be getting any answers anytime soon.

"How was your appointment?" She asks, taking a seat across from me.

"It was good until Peeta left." I say thinly. My mother makes some sort of noise of accordance. "Where is he?" I plead. "Is he okay?" I feel the inevitable tears of frustration come to my eyes.

"Katniss…" she sighs quietly. "I wish I could tell you, but I can't. Haymitch called and told me to distract you. Told me to keep you busy." She sounds truthful and apologetic. I search her eyes and decide she's telling the truth. She really doesn't know where he is or what's going on.

I suffer through the meal, forcing food down my throat. She suggests going to the living-room so she can teach me how to knit. She says that as a mother, it's a very viable skill. Even though I don't want to learn how to knit, I go anyway. I figure that it'll take my mind off Peeta.

Before I can even learn how to start, the door bursts open and in comes Erin. I stand to give her a hug. Her cheeks are rosy red, her dark hair spotted with melting snow.

"Katniss, hi," she says, hugging me tightly. Letting go, she turns to my mother. "I have a message for you." She says. My mother glances at me. "_Just_ you."

"Grabbing a pair of boots, my mother follows Erin out to the porch to talk. Why is no one telling me anything? It seems I'm destined to be kept in the dark about this. They come back inside, my mother grabbing her coat, Erin taking hers off.

"Katniss," my mother says. "Erin is going to stay here for a bit. I'll be back soon." She informs me. I don't bother asking where she's going. It's a waste of breath. The door shuts softly behind her.

"So, what do you want to do?" Erin asks. Even I can hear the fear in her voice. She's trying to be happy, patient, relaxed. She can't do it. Whatever is going on or whatever she's seen has taken away her innocence. At least for now.

"I just want to sleep." I say wearily, heading back to the living-room couch. Erin comes with me, not objecting this idea. She sits on the couch, letting me lay my head in her lap. I curl into a ball, closing my eyes. I feel Erin undo my braid and start playing with my hair. I remember when Peeta used to do this to me.

I remember that last day of training before the Quarter Quell when he tied knots in it. I remember saying we could let it last forever. It instantly relaxes me to think of and to feel Erin's fingers brushing through my hair. I fall asleep pretty quickly.

XX

I'm gently shaken awake. I open my eyes and sit up to find the living-room full of people. Everyone is here. My mother has returned, Winnow, Hazelle, Gale, Thom, and Gale's brother, Rory. Haymitch is sitting in Peeta's armchair.

"How do you feel?" He asks me, leaning forward in the chair.

"Fine," I reply. "How long was I asleep?" The window shows everything a little darker outside. Long shadows are cast in the snow by the setting sun.

"It's almost 6:30." Haymitch tells me. "Winnow made dinner for you when you're hungry." I look around at everyone. They all give me a sympathetic look. Most of them look worried or scared.

"What's going on?" I ask. The real question I have is: what happened to my husband? But I doubt anyone would pay attention to me if I asked that.

"Everyone was here having a quick dinner. Gale and Erin have agreed to stay here overnight. I'll be just up the street with Rory, Hazelle, and Winnow. Thom's next door with your mother. If you need anyone, I'll be awake all night. Okay? I think that's Gale's plan as well." Haymitch looks at Gale who nods.

"Anything you need, just come talk to me. Okay, Catnip?" He says. He's leaning against the wall, still wearing his coat and hat.

"Winnow and Hazelle are going to stay with you until Erin and Gale get back. They'll make sure you eat." Haymitch finishes. All of this explanation confuses me.

Why do I need to have guards? Or is it Peeta that needs everyone around him? Where is he and what's happened to him?

"She's confused. She doesn't know what's going on." I hear Winnow tell Haymitch softly. She puts a hand on his shoulder as he sighs.

"Here's the thing," he says slowly, pausing and looking around. It's like he's waiting for someone else to say it for him. No one moves. "We're going back out for a couple more hours. But when the sun sets, there's not much else we can do. Gale and I are staying awake just in case something happens in the night. We're all here."

"Going back out?" I ask for clarification. Haymitch sighs loudly, but finally says one last thing.

"Peeta's missing."

**A/N I know it's short! But I liked that ending. The next one should be up within the week! Review please!**


	29. Beside Me

Missing? No. No, I refuse to believe it. He can't be. He's probably at the bakery or Haymitch's or the memorial. They just aren't looking hard enough. He's not missing. He can't be.

"Katniss?" It's Erin's small voice. She puts a hand on my arm. "We're going to find him. I promise." But how can they promise me this? He's been gone for over six hours. They've been searching for the whole afternoon. I barely register Haymitch telling Thom and Rory to go back out and look.

I want to get angry, yell at them. But the shock still grips me and I don't know what I want to say. I can't ask if he's hurt or even alive, because they don't know. I can't blame them because it's not their fault he ran off.

"How about you have dinner?" My mother suggests. I should say yes and eat something. I really should, but I can't. No matter how much I need food, no matter how much my baby needs it, I can't. Dinner won't bring Peeta back.

"I'm not really hungry," I say, my voice hostile. Erin takes my hand and squeezes it.

"It'll take your mind off it." She tries.

"No, it won't!" I snap at her. She lets go of my hand pretty quickly after that. "The only way I won't be thinking about it, is if he's back. Where did you even look?" My tone is accusing.

"Everywhere," Haymitch's simple answer doesn't satisfy me.

"The bakery?" I ask.

"Was the first place we looked." He replies, leaning back in the chair, exhausted.

"The memorial?"

"Your mother waited there all day."

"His old house?"

"Doesn't exist anymore, and he's not in the empty lot where it was." Even _I_ can't think of anymore places to look. I get frustrated mostly with myself for letting him get lost. I should've made him at least stay at the doctor's.

"The woods?" I ask half-heartedly, only because it's where I would go – want to go right now – if I ran away. There's no answer for a short while.

"He doesn't know how to get in." Gale finally says. The phone rings making everyone jump. Haymitch picks it up off the coffee table in front of him. I have no idea who it is but I doubt it's Peeta. Haymitch sounds too disappointed for it to be Peeta. He hangs up.

"Peacekeepers are out for curfew. I guess our search finishes till morning." He tells us. No. We haven't found him. We _need_ to find him. I stride to the door and slip my boots on.

"Where do you think you're going?" Haymitch demands. I decided not to answer, just like how he hasn't answered me once today. I wrench open the door, not bothering to get a coat. And then I run, leaving the door wide open.

"I'll get her," Gale says, following me. He knows better than to stop me. Instead, he jogs behind me at a distance. I run blindly. I run past the houses on our street and through the town. The fence looms up in front of us. It's not on, just like it's never been. There's still a section that was torn down back when District 12 was being burned down.

_Yeah. He would have no idea how to get in,_ I think as I make my way into the cover of trees. It's even darker in here. With the moon hidden behind clouds and the tree branches hiding any light from the street, it's nearly impossible to see. I realize suddenly that I'm crying. I have to stop for a minute and clear my vision.

Gale must not be able to see at all, because when I stop, he runs right into me. I'm almost knocked over, but he catches me by the arm.

"Sorry," he says, keeping a hold on me. "Do you want a jacket?" I can barely see the outline of my coat in his hand.

"Yeah, thanks," I take the coat, sniffing.

"We _will_ find him. He won't be gone forever." Gale tries to reassure me. I don't reply, just sit down on a fallen tree and cry. Gale sits next to me, rubbing my back. He doesn't try to make me feel better again.

I can't be sure how long we sit there, but suddenly I hear the crunching of snow behind us. I stop crying and gasp. Gale must hear it too, because his arm wraps protectively around my shoulder. Slowly, he turns his head to see what kind of animal has found us.

"Oh my God…" he breathes, turning his whole body.

"What is it?" I ask, terrified. I'm in no position to be fighting an animal, and neither of us have any sort of weapon.

"Stay here. Don't move." He whispers to me. I feel him swing his legs over the tree and go towards the source of the noise. I hear him whispering gently, but I can't make out any words. It takes everything I have not to look, not to move.

"Katniss?" Gale calls over, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in such a quiet night. "Can you come over here, please?" I get up and make my way to Gale. The thing lying beside him is pretty big, almost the size of a person. As I get closer, the moon comes out, showering everything with speckled light. I realize that it _is_ a person beside Gale.

"No," I whisper, kneeling next to them. There he is, covered in snow, dirt, and blood. "Peeta," I say. He opens his eyes when he hears his name, my voice.

"Hey, Katniss. I'm ready to go home." He tries to joke. I lean forward, lifting him up in a hug.

"Oh, Peeta, you're okay. You're okay," I let him go, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "How do you feel?" I ask.

"Exhausted. My head hurts, and I think I broke my arm." Peeta winces, his voice rough. He closes his eyes again.

"Come on, Peeta. Let's get going." Gale says, tapping Peeta's shoulder. Peeta only groans." Yes, let's go. You can sleep at home." Gale's patience is already wearing thin.

I stand up, hoping Peeta follows my lead. He holds out his good arm for someone to help him up. Gale takes his hand and pulls. At first, Peeta seems stable enough, but then he starts swaying. I wrap an arm around his waist to steady him.

"Can you walk?" I ask. Already, Peeta is breathing heavily.

"I can try." He answers weakly. We go slow for him. Luckily, we aren't in too far, so we get to the main street pretty quickly. I keep my arm around Peeta while Gale stands on his other side. We're only just getting into town when Peeta quietly asks for a break. There's a bench on the side of the sidewalk where we let Peeta sit down and catch his breath.

It's not snowing anymore and everyone is inside out of the cold. I sit next to Peeta, feeling close to tears again. Except it's tears of relief that we've found him.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A silky voice interrupts all our thoughts. "Out past curfew, are we?" I look up to see the white of a Peacekeeper uniform and the snarky face of a man no older than I am.

"Excuse me?" I exclaim. The words swim vaguely in front of my mind. I'm still focused on Peeta.

"It's a Sunday. You're out past this District's curfew." The Peacekeeper almost gloats. "I'm going to have to ask you to come to the station with me." He smirks at us.

"Sorry, we're just trying to get home." I explain, not quite hearing that we have to go with him. The Peacekeeper reaches out to take my arm.

"To the station, Miss," he sneers, tightening his grip. I try to shake him off, but there's no need. Gale rips his hand off me.

"Don't you dare touch her!" He shouts. Peeta tries to stand, put himself between the Peacekeeper and me. I make him sit back down, pushing hair out of his eyes.

"And don't you dare touch _me_!" The man in the uniform shouts back. "We're going to the station whether you like it or not. You've broken a law!" He continues. Gale tries hard not to roll his eyes. I see him reach into his pocket and pull out his wallet. He flashes some sort of I.D. at the Peacekeeper. The man looks Gale up and down with some skepticism.

"I say we're exempt. Let us go home." He says, holding the card out a moment longer. Exempt? No one is exempt from the law, even if they are injured and tired. And it certainly wouldn't be Gale's place to choose who gets off with a free pass.

"Fine," the Peacekeeper says reluctantly. He backs away slowly, eyeing Peeta and me warily.

"Are you ready?" Gale asks Peeta. I can tell he's upset about what happened with the Peacekeeper. I don't dwell on this, though. Instead, I help Peeta to his feet and start walking again.

"We're almost there," I say as our house comes into view. All the lights are still on and I can see silhouettes in the windows. Someone's pacing, but I'm not sure who it is. "We'll get your arm looked at and then you can sleep, okay?" I pull Peeta up the porch steps. His bad leg is stiff and his muscles are so tense that he can barely bend his knees.

The door is unlocked, as it should be. Gale steps in first, holding it open for us.

"Finally!" I hear Hazelle exclaim. Then everyone sees me with Peeta and all Hell breaks loose. Immediately, my mother and Haymitch attack Peeta, pulling him away from me. Erin and Winnow lead me back to the couch, tenderly stroking my hair and arm. Gale is approached by Thom, Rory, and Hazelle, all of them bombarding his with questions. Eventually, Haymitch's voice cuts through the din.

"Everybody quiet!" He shouts. I choose that moment of complete silence to involuntarily whimper. For once, Haymitch takes pity on me. He allows me to go to Peeta who is sitting on a kitchen chair by the door. I run to him, quickly grabbing his good hand and giving him a light kiss on the cheek. I can taste the saltiness of his tears.

"It's okay, I promise." I whisper. He leans his head against my stomach and I stroke his hair.

"Now, Peeta, what the _hell_ happened to you?" Haymitch demands, pointing a finger at him. "Where the hell did you go?" This sends me into a fit of tears to join Peeta's.

"Please don't make him answer yet. He's tired and hurt," I explain, kneeling down so I'm at eye level with Peeta. "He's here now and that's all that matters." I put a hand on his cheek and kiss him through my tears. It makes me so happy when he kisses me back.

"Where does it hurt, Peeta?" My mother asks gently.

"My arm," he replies, his voice unusually quiet and strained. My mother rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. She reaches into a first-aid kit that I recognize from my childhood, and wraps his arm tightly in a bandage. Then she ties a sling around his neck.

"Can someone get me some ice?" She asks. I don't know who gets it, but they also bring back a wet washcloth for his face. The ice gets put in the sling to reduce swelling. Gently, she dabs at the blood and dirt on his face. "You're going to have to shower. Your hair is a mess." She tells him.

"No, I'm too tired." He says, and he sounds like it, too.

"Then Katniss will wash it in the sink." She meets my eyes and I nod. "Other than that, just take some aspirin if you need it. And feel better soon, okay, Peeta?" My mother stands, packing up the first-aid kit. Together, her and Haymitch have a whispered conversation.

"Okay, everyone stick to the original plan. I think it's time we all went to bed." Haymitch advises, being the first person at the door.

Eventually, it's just Peeta, Erin, Gale, and me. I force Peeta to stand so Gale can put the chair against the counter. Peeta sits back down, leaning his head back into the sink. Slowly and carefully, I wash his hair for him just like he sometimes does for me.

As I massage shampoo into his hair, I start humming. I realize half-way through that it's the Miss Mockingjay song. Gale catches on, starting the resonating bass of his hum. I look up and smile at him. He's done a lot for us today. We both owe him.

I turn the tap off when I'm done, letting water drip from his hair.

"You need a haircut," I say, taking a towel to put around his shoulders. He doesn't respond. "Peeta?" His eyes are closed and his chest moves slowly up and down.

"I think he's asleep." Gale observes.

"Must have been the humming," Erin teases, making us all smile.

"Give him a haircut right now." Gale suggests. I lean down to kiss Peeta's cheek, then go to get scissors and a comb. I've only cut his hair once before and I did a pretty good job. It'll be easier this time because he won't move.

It takes another ten minutes to get it the length I want it. It looks just as good as if we'd gone to a hairdresser. He'll wake up tomorrow morning confused as can be. But that's okay, as long as he's here tomorrow morning.

"I'll take him to the couch." Gale offers.

"The couch? Just take him to bed." I complain.

"I can't. You and Erin are in your room. I'm down here on the recliner. It's safer that way." He explains.

"He's not dangerous anymore!" I argue.

"We want you both completely safe. It's just for one night." Gale goes to carry Peeta to the couch. Erin waits for me to go upstairs with her. It takes me awhile to fall asleep. I have to ask Erin to rub my back.

I wish it was Peeta beside me.

**A/N Thank you to Mockingjay for all the reviews! They mean so much to me. Also, this is record speed. And record length.**


	30. A Good Father

We all sleep in late the next day, but Peeta and Gale sleep the longest. Erin and I take turns having a shower and getting dressed before we go downstairs. The boys are dead to the world; both sprawled out on their respective pieces of furniture. I decide to make tea for everyone, and some toast for Erin and myself.

"What time do you think they'll wake up?" Erin asks, sitting down at the table with her tea cup.

"Hopefully soon, but probably not for a couple more hours," I guess, sitting next to her.

"What should we make them for lunch?" She asks. I glance at the clock. It'll be closer to lunch for them, but I know Peeta loves breakfast.

"How about we make a huge brunch?" I suggest. I'm in the mood to be doing something. Erin smiles, nodding vigorously. I get up, going to the fridge. "We can have eggs, toast, and sausage." I begin grabbing these items.

"I know a really good recipe for hash browns," Erin offers.

"Good. Potatoes are under the sink." I point to the right cupboard, and then start heating a fry-pan for the sausage. Erin begins peeling and shredding the potatoes. It takes a good forty-five minutes for us amateurs to get everything finished. We're just finishing the dishes when I hear the squeak and groan of the reclining chair. Gale's awake. Sure enough, he saunters into the kitchen.

"Where's the food?" He asks, looking at the meal on the counter.

"Hold on two seconds and we'll bring it out to the living-room." I take the plate of eggs and sausage. Erin's got the hash browns and toast, while Gale helps by bringing plates and cutlery for everyone. We arrange it all on the coffee table. I look at Peeta, debating on whether or not to wake him up.

"Hey, wake up!" Gale says for me, throwing a pillow at him.

"Careful!" I screech as Peeta groans. I go to move the pillow for him, putting a hand on his cheek. "Did it hit your arm?" I say quietly, calmly. He shakes his head, trying to sit up. I help him as best as I can. "How do you feel?"

"Awful. My head hurts more than my arm." He squeezes his eyes shut. I quickly get up to get him an aspirin. He accepts it easily and lets me sit beside him on the couch. Gale and Erin have already served themselves food. I pick up a plate and fill it with everything for myself.

"What do you want, Peeta?" I take his plate next.

"I'm not hungry," he complains.

"Peeta, look at all this food Katniss made for you. You have to eat." Gale says, a slight edge to his voice.

"Gale, stop," I say reproachfully. "Peeta you have to eat at least one think. And drink all your tea." I'm much nicer to him about it than I usually would be. Peeta sighs, surveying the plates of food.

"I'll have some eggs." He agrees, already taking a sip of his tea. I serve him two eggs instead of just one.

"Eat what you can," I say, lightly kissing his cheek. The rest of brunch is pretty quiet. We're all hungry. Even Peeta finishes the eggs and eats a piece of toast.

"Well, I should probably get going," Erin says when we're all full and mostly content. She stands. "Thanks for brunch, Katniss. Feel better, Peeta." I get up and wrap her in a hug before she can leave.

"Thank you for being here for me. Thank you so much." I whisper so only she can hear.

"What are friends for?" Erin pulls away, waving to us all as she gets her things and leaves.

"I'll clean up," Gale offers, picking up the empty dishes.

"I can – " I start.

"No, you can stay with Peeta," he interrupts. I don't argue. I know Peeta needs someone to be with him right now. I lean back on the couch like he is.

"Peeta?" I notice his eyes are closed. He makes a noise in the back of his throat. "Can you please tell me what happened?" I ask. He sighs, shifting a little.

"Not without Haymitch here," he says quietly. "I'm not repeating everything." I nod, kissing his forehead before calling Haymitch's house.

"He'll be here in a couple minutes." I explain. "Do you need anything?"

"You." This makes me smile. I go back to him and he puts his good arm around me. We stay that way until Haymitch gets there. Then I sit up and let Peeta talk.

"What happened yesterday? To your brain?" Haymitch prompts, speaking kindly. Peeta sighs again.

"I don't really know. All of a sudden I could feel it happening. I could feel everything get blurry." He explains.

"What do you mean 'blurry'?" Haymitch probes. I rub Peeta's arm gently.

"The difference between what was real or not real; the edges of reality." Peeta takes a deep breath. "I needed to be somewhere that reminded me of her. But I couldn't be near her." He's referring to me now. His breathing becomes shallower and his hands start to shake.

"Peeta, just take it easy," I say softly. We wait patiently for him to keep talking.

"So, I went to the woods. I was so angry at everything. I can't even remember how I broke my arm. Being somewhere I knew she'd been was comforting, but it was also scary." He says.

"Why was it scary?" Haymitch asks.

"Because I knew she might come. I thought she would come looking for me and if I saw her, I wouldn't be able to control what I did to her." Peeta's whole body is shaking now. I hold his hand tightly.

"You didn't do anything to me." I assure him. He squeezes my hand back.

"But what if I did?" He asks, not expecting an answer. "Every time I heard a twig snap or the crunch of snow… I ran. I was so blinded by fear. I don't remember half of it." He adds. I glance at Haymitch.

"What were you thinking when she found you? In the end?"

"Gale found me." Peeta says simply.

"Well, what about when you saw Katniss?" Haymitch asks impatiently. Peeta takes a long time before answering, almost like he can't decide his own feelings.

"I felt like I was in pain." He finally says.

"What kind of pain?" I question.

"My whole body hurt." Peeta closes his eyes and leans his head on my shoulder. He's fading.

"One more question, Peeta." Haymitch decides. "Do you think you were scared of being a father? Do you think it felt too real, too soon?" It's the hard-hitting and to-the-point question. Peeta doesn't answer it. "Don't feel that way. It's not going to be easy, but it's going to be so worth it." He explains.

"I know," Peeta murmurs. Haymitch stands, giving us both a kiss on the head.

"Feel better. We'll talk about this later when you aren't so exhausted." He lets himself out. I wait for Peeta to speak, telling me what he wants to do. He keeps quiet and maybe he's fallen asleep.

"Do you like your hair, Peeta?" Gale leans against the wall. He's finished the dishes and is about to leave. Peeta runs a hand through his blonde hair.

"What'd you do to it?" He asks, pulling at the ends.

"You needed a trim so I did it last night while you were sleeping." I tell him. "Did you not want one?" 

"I didn't know I need one," he admits. "Does it look good?" He turns to face me and I kiss his nose.

"Of course it does! Would I really give you a bad haircut?" I tease. Peeta sighs.

"I guess not," the next thing I know, he turns and lies down, his head in my lap. "Thanks for breakfast." He murmurs quietly. I smile.

"No problem." Gale meets my eye and nods. He leaves the living-room to head straight home. I play Peeta's short hair, running my fingers through it. Eventually, his breathing becomes deep and even. I lean forward to kiss him. Then I lift his head up and move over, putting a pillow under his head. I go to the kitchen where everything is spotless. Gale did a good job. On my way back upstairs, I sigh and take pity on Peeta. Taking a woolen blanket, I tuck him in.

"You'll be a good father, Peeta." I whisper, hoping this message reaches into his unconsciousness.

And I know he will be. He'll be the perfect father.


	31. Two Weeks Later

Peeta doesn't go back to work for two weeks after this. His arm healed one week in, but every morning, he wakes up and tells me his head hurts too much. No amount of aspirin, sleep, or temple-massages seems to make it any better. So, eventually, I snap.

"You're going to work today. No excuses." I say, opening the blinds in our bedroom. Sunlight pores in, making Peeta groan and turn over.

"No, not today," he whispers. I exhale loudly, trying not to lose my temper.

"Peeta, I'm serious. Get out of bed right now!" I pull back the covers so he curls into the fetal position, shivering. "Go to work already!" The tone of desperation in my voice is enough to make him sit up.

"Katniss, my head is killing me," he complains.

"No, it's not. You're just scared for things to go back to normal." It's harsh and we both know it, but I'm nearly four months pregnant. I deserve to be snippy.

"I'm not scared of anything," Peeta mumbles, but he gets up anyway. I get out a clean set of work clothes for him.

"What do you want for breakfast?" I ask, cooling off. He pulls on a white t-shirt with the bakery logo on it.

"I want to make _you_ breakfast this morning." He says. "I'll make you crepes." I bite back a nasty remark about how he didn't think he could go to work, but he could make crepes.

"Sure," is all I end up saying. Peeta finishes getting dressed and comes to wrap me in an embrace. He rubs my back, pulling away to kiss me. As we kiss, as his lips press softly against mine, I can't be angry with him anymore. "Sorry," I say guiltily when he lets me go.

"It's okay. I know I'm being difficult and it's not fair for you." He says, giving me another quick peck. He lets go and heads downstairs to make us breakfast. I stay upstairs feeling angry at him for being scared, jealous of him for getting the opportunity to run away, and guilty because I shouldn't be feeling either of those things.

Eventually, I follow Peeta's path down the stairs. The smell of flour and the stove fire are already wafting into the living room. I lean against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching Peeta. He looks so at home, so comfortable right now. It's like nothing bad has ever happened to him. Suddenly, he turns around and sees me.

"I'm almost done. I promise," he smiles the smile I can instantly fall in love with.

"It's okay. Take your time. I know your head hurts." I have no idea why I'm feeding his idea that his head hurts, but he seems to disagree with me.

"It's fine right now." He flips the crepes. I try very hard not to roll my eyes. I sit at the table, playing with the corner of a place mat. When Peeta finally serves the food, I'm feeling much more exhausted than usual.

"What's wrong?" Peeta asks gently, starting to cut his crepes. I shrug.

"I'm just tired. It's how I always feel lately." I take a bite of the thin pancakes, letting the sugary sweetness take over my taste buds. Peeta reaches out a hand to hold mine on the table.

"I can always stay home with you-"

"No, you're going to work." I interrupt adamantly.

"Okay," Peeta goes back to breakfast while I do my best to finish. He's done in a matter of seconds. He eats every meal as if it's his last. I guess he knows how it feels to have an imminent and potential last meal.

"I'll be home at 4," he says as he puts his plate in the sink. I nod. "Call me if you need anything." He requests, kissing me quickly.

"I'll be fine." I get up to see him out the door. Once he has his coat, boots, and gloves on, he gives me one more kiss.

"Bye baby," he says to me, then kneels down to say the same thing to my stomach. I've been starting to really show lately. I'll be in need of new clothes in a couple weeks.

"We'll miss you." I say, ruffling his blonde hair. He stands up and finally – finally! – leaves for work. It's not that I don't want him to be in the house, but since I can't hunt at the moment, someone has to be making an income. Besides, he was getting annoying being in the house 24/7.

I spend the morning doing laundry and cleaning up a bit. By lunch time, I'm pretty drained, so I make myself a sandwich and then lay down on the couch in the living room.

My eyes have only just closed when the doorbell rings. I ignore it. Whoever is at the door is persistent. They knock loudly on the door, ring the bell a couple more times. Eventually, I get up off the couch, thoroughly annoyed. I open the door to see Gale with his fist raised, ready to knock again.

"Finally!" He exclaims moodily. He comes in before I can say anything. "Avoiding me or something?" He tries to make a joke, but I just scowl.

"I hope this is important." I warn as he basically invites himself in.

"It is. But first, I'll make you some tea." He's familiar with my kitchen, probably because Hazelle's is set up in a similar fashion. Very soon, I have a cup of tea in one hand while Gale leads me to the living room so I can relax.

"Okay, Hawthorne, make this quick." I say with a sip of my tea. For a hunter, he makes very good tea.

"You are definitely pregnant," he teases, thinking it's going to make me laugh. I scowl again.

"Whatever you're going to say, can you please just say it? I'm exhausted already." I plead with him. He puts his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, okay, don't have a cow." He clears his throat and his face becomes serious. The lines on his forehead become more pronounced as he frowns. "I'm going home in a couple days. And you never told me if you would come to my wedding." He doesn't meet my eye and I'm glad. I'm afraid I'll give in if he looks at me.

"I told you. There's no way I'm going. It's stupid." This last comment makes him wince. But I stand by what I said a few months ago. Gale Hawthorne is not ready for marriage.

"Okay, that's all I needed to know." He begins to get up, but then he stops himself. "I don't know when I'll be back here again." He says persuasively.

"Gale, don't you dare start playing games with me." I point a finger at him. "I'll come see you off at the train station when you leave. But don't expect me to be at your wedding." Gale sighs.

"How's Peeta?" He asks. For a minute, I'm caught off guard by the change in topic.

"He's at work," I reply as if that answers the question. Gale looks surprised. "What's that look for? You don't think he can recover and go to work?" My hormones make me snappier than I normally would be. Gale knows to ignore this.

"No, I just haven't seen him there in a while. And, I mean, he had a pretty big attack." Gale shrugs.

"He's fine," I reply quietly. That reminder of how bad his attack really was, scares me.

"That's good, Katniss." Gale says reassuringly. I set my tea on the coffee table, because my hands are shaking. "Are you okay?" He asks nervously. I shake my head as I feel the first tears begin to fall.

Immediately, Gale is out of the armchair and beside me on the couch. He puts an arm around me, pulling me close to him.

"It's going to be okay. Peeta's getting better. You don't have to come to my wedding. Everything is fine." He says gently.

"No!" I sob. "Peeta said he was cured! I don't want this baby to have an unsafe father! I can't do it, Gale. I just can't!" I lean into him, getting his shoulder wet with my tears.

"Yes, you can. You still have Haymitch and your mother. My mom will help, and so will Thom and Erin. I know Peeta will try his hardest." Gale must be finding this situation a little awkward, because he suggests calling Peeta at the bakery. I shake my head.

"I just got him to leave this morning. He's staying there today." I start calming down. I know Gale's right: I do have people to protect me. Wasn't that evident two weeks ago when everyone was looking for Peeta and making sure I was safe?

"Have some more tea, then." Gale holds the cup for me, because I'm still very shaky. "Why don't you go up to bed? Sleep will do you good." He stands, offering me his hand. I'm too tired to tell him I was going to sleep before he came bursting in.

He half-pulls me upstairs. I feel so weak from crying. I get tucked in to bed carefully.

"Do you need to stay here for a bit?" He asks.

"No, my mom is next door." I reply my eyes already closed. "Thank you," I murmur.

"Any time, Catnip." He leaves the door open a crack and I hear him go loudly back downstairs. He's always so quiet in the woods, but the house almost shakes with every heavy footstep on the stairs.

As I drift off to a well-deserved sleep, one thing comes to the front of my mind and stays there: Gale is leaving in two days… and I'm going to miss him.

**A/N My new year's resolution will be to work harder on this. The mention of crepes is a shout-out to tonks-quinn57, because she always mentions food in her reviews.  
>Review! That would make my day! Thanks!<strong>


	32. Gale Hawthorne

I sleep for longer than I plan, waking up to realize Peeta will be home in an hour. I go down to the kitchen and start peeling potatoes for dinner. I wonder what kind of mood Peeta will be in when he comes home. Will he feel just as tired as I am? Will he still complain about his head? I brace myself for the worst. I make sure we have enough meat for the both of us and find we still have that deer Gale brought. I set it out to thaw. We'll have squirrel tonight and deer tomorrow.

I lean against the kitchen counter, rubbing my stomach. I'm getting hungry and so is the baby. I settle the ache by eating some cheese and crackers. When that's not enough, a cheese bun follows along with some raspberries. I'm about to start eating some pecans when I hear Peeta's voice calling my name.

I meet him at the front door and take his coat for him, hanging it up. He takes off his boots and gives me a kiss as a greeting.

"How was it?" I ask carefully. He nods a little.

"It was fine. I had Thom stay at front all day. The baking made me feel better." He explains. "How was your day?" We walk back to the kitchen so I can put the potatoes on to boil.

"Gale came for a visit," I say, refraining to mention anything about the wedding. Peeta's reaction is barely existent. He tosses a couple of my pecans into the air and catches them in his mouth. "Don't choke," I warn.

"I won't, mother," he teases me, winking. "Gale came to the bakery to see me, too," he adds. I feel a rush of panic in my chest. It would be just like Gale to go ask Peeta about his wedding after I'd already said no. And I can't imagine my husband saying anything but yes. He might not be best friends with Gale, but after their fist-fight, they seem to get along better. Besides, Peeta loves weddings.

"What did he say?" I force my voice to sound steady, turning my back on Peeta to put the meat in the oven.

"Just told me that he was leaving in a couple days. Same thing he told you, I imagine," I turn around to catch Peeta still throwing his pecans before eating them. He misses and the pecan hits the floor. He looks up, realizing he's been caught as I raise an eyebrow at him, my hands on my hips. He leans down to pick it up and then kisses me. When he pulls away, he apologizes.

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your child whose father will choke to death on a pecan," I tease. He smiles at this. Work must have been really good.

"Oh, and Gale mentioned that he might stop by later tonight," Peeta adds. _Great,_ I think, _he's going to ask about his wedding again._ "Unless there's a problem with that," Peeta catches the look of worry on my face. I shake my head.

"No, it's fine," I assure him. "I'm just wondering why he needs to visit twice in one day," I half lie. I am slightly curious as to why this can't wait until tomorrow. Peeta shrugs in reply to this. Before either of us can say anything else, the doorbell rings. I'm about to go answer it when the potatoes start to boil over.

"Don't worry, I'll get the door," Peeta kisses my temple as he passes. I stir the potatoes and decide they're tender enough to start mashing.

"If it's Gale, tell him we aren't feeding him!" I call after Peeta. While he's at the door, I check on the meat which only needs about five more minutes. It'll be nice and juicy in the middle, just how Peeta likes it.

"Catnip, what's this I hear about you not feeding me?" Suddenly, Gale's in the kitchen with Peeta behind him. Peeta shrugs, looking guilty.

"We don't have enough for three people," I say shortly. I hear Gale scoff while Peeta hunts the fridge for vegetables.

"I'll eat whatever you have. I'm not picky," that's such a Gale thing to say. He must think we're hiding extra food in the house just for him. Well, he's sorely mistaken, isn't he?

"Unfortunately, the only thing we have in abundance is bread. There's not enough meat or potatoes," I say forcefully, starting to mash the potatoes. I'm making rather a show of it until Peeta gently takes my hand and pries my fingers off the masher.

"Why don't you sit down? I'll finish getting dinner ready," he says quietly so Gale's not listening in.

"No, I'm fine," I try to argue, but Peeta silences me with a kiss.

"Go sit down," he repeats, giving me a little push towards the table. I notice that there are flecks of potato on the counter. I wonder how hard I really was mashing. Gale sits across from me at the table.

"Feeling better than earlier?" He asks conversationally. I nod. Whatever anger I had with Gale about staying for dinner evaporates. "Sorry for barging in like this. But, as I explained to Peeta, this was the only night I have to see just the two of you before I go." Oh God, why does he have to make so much sense?

"I understand," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. Peeta serves us and I immediately start eating. Peeta eats a little slower and with more manners. At first, Gale reaches for my plate and pops the occasional cherry tomato or piece of celery into his mouth. This stops when Peeta tells him I need to eat all the vegetables on my plate because I'm eating for two now. My old hunting partner looks sheepish and keeps his hands on his side of the table.

After dinner, with our light conversations, Peeta suggests hot chocolate in the living room. Gale's all for it. He goes there with me while Peeta makes us drinks. It's awkwardly silent because Gale's nervous about my constant mood changes, and I'm no good at talking. It's easier when Peeta's there.

"So, Gale," Peeta starts when he gets back, handing us both a mug. "I guess a toast is in order tonight," Peeta lifts his mug and I hesitantly follow. Where is he going with this? "To Gale and his fiancee. Sorry we won't be there for the wedding, but here's to a happy and long marriage." Peeta smiles and Gale reaches to clink mugs with him. Just like that, Peeta has solidified the fact that we aren't going - he's made it official - while still keeping the peace between all assembled. It's better than I could have done if I'd been given thousands of chances.

"Thanks, Peeta," he says, carefully sipping the hot beverage. Peeta sits next to me on the love seat and kisses my cheek. I drink my own hot chocolate, tasting the sweet peppermint Peeta knows to put in mine. It scalds my throat a little when I swallow, but I don't care. It tastes better that way. "Well, now that you aren't eating dinner, I have something for you guys." Gale gets up and goes to collect a bag from the front door.

"What is it?" I ask when he sits back down.

"A gift," he replies, pulling a poorly wrapped gift from the bag. "I never got you anything as a thank-you for hosting that party. Besides, I think you might like it," he hands the package to me.

"You didn't have to get us anything," I say, peeling off some of the tape.

"Well, I wanted to." Gale shrugs. "Sorry about the wrapping. It's the first time I've ever done it." He admits. I don't mind, though. I'm sure everyone in the room could agree that I wouldn't have done much better.

Peeta helps me rip off the silver wrapping paper. Once it's off, there's a box to open and then tissue paper to fold back. I pull out a yellow onesie, then see that there are more baby clothes underneath it. My mouth hangs open as Peeta and I count six different outfits, all in neutral colours.

"Gale," I start, then find myself lost for words. I feel guilty for how I've treated him all these years, these past couple months.

"Don't worry about it, Catnip. It's a gift. You don't have to repay gifts." He says before my tongue can figure out how to work. I stand, letting Peeta take the box of clothes, and wrap my arms around Gale.

"Thank you," I say, feeling tears start. But I refuse to cry, hormones or not. Peeta's just as grateful but not nearly as indebted. Maybe it's just me who can't accept the kind things people do for me and move on. It might also be because I don't want to admit Gale's leaving to get married.

"No problem," Gale pats me on the back before I go back to Peeta. He holds me tightly, thinking the tears won't come if he comforts me enough. "But remember, those are for your first-born child. I'm not expecting it in return," he jokes. Peeta laughs and I'm I find myself chuckling.

"I've been meaning to ask, Gale," Peeta starts. His tone surprises me. He's very serious all of a sudden, and when I turn to look at him, he's got a crease between his eyebrows. I put a hand on his, relieved when he takes hold of it, warming up my fingers. It means he's not mad.

"What's up?" Gale presses, remaining casual.

"When I ran off and you found me and brought me back..." Peeta pauses. I can tell by the way he leans forward and his frown increases, that he is trying to remember the events as they really happened. I rub his back, waiting for him to continue. I have no idea what he's getting at.

"Yeah?" Gale is as patient as he can be, which is saying a lot.

"You, um, showing that Peacekeeper something so he would let us keep going home. What was it?" Peeta looks up at Gale, so I direct my attention to him as well. I'm not surprised that I'd forgotten this. So many things happened that night. I was too busy trying to get a bleeding and injured Peeta home to think to hard on Gale's authority over Peacekeepers. But now I do.

Gale tense briefly and then relaxes. I might be the only one to notice the vein in his forehead pulse faintly but steadily. I've been around Gale in too many stressful situations not to have noticed it before.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," I say quickly. Peeta catches on to Gale's body language.

"Yeah, I was just curious. Don't feel obliged to say anything," he adds. Gale clears his throat loudly.

"It's fine. I just never thought I would have to tell you," he takes a moment to organize his thoughts. "That 'fancy' job I have in District 2, is called Head Officer of Judicial and Military Resources and Appointments." He explains. This is a term I'm not familiar with.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Peeta asks, chuckling. A ghost of a smile flickers across Gale's face.

"It means I'm in charge of the law system and military ranks. I'm the reason there's still a curfew." He goes on. "That card I showed the Peacekeeper was my ID badge. I guess I have the right to send him to jail if I wanted to. Not that I would!" He adds quickly. I don't know what to think. I can't be angry because he's done a good job with the laws of Panem. I can't be happy either, because having Gale work in military again scares me. As always, Peeta figures it out the right thing to say before I do.

"Congratulations. That sounds very... prestigious," he smiles a smile that Gale returns. "And thank you for not letting us get sent to jail." There. We're back to light-hearted conversation.

Peeta and Gale do most of the talking for the night. They talk about the bakery, Haymitch, Gale's family, and my pregnancy. Gale makes me promise to call him when we find out the sex. He tries to convince us to name it 'Gale' if it's a boy. I laugh and tell him "not change in Hell." I'm very happy when this makes him laugh as well. Gale's laugh is loud, deep, and reassuring.

At a quarter to midnight, he gets up.

"I gotta get going. There's a curfew tonight. Someone should really complain about these curfews," he winks at me as we walk to the front door.

"You'll be getting a formal complaint from me any day now," Peeta jokes back. There's one final hug for the both of us and then he's off.

"Goodbye!" I call after him. He lifts a hand to wave back. Once we're inside, Peeta retrieves our gift and brings it upstairs with him.

"Well, that was a nice visit," he says. I nod, feeling exhausted again. Peeta holds my hand to go up the stairs. The new weight of my stomach makes me slightly off-balance. I'm too tired to get out of my clothes and into pajamas so I just lie on my back and close my eyes. Peeta takes pity on me. With some reluctant help from myself, he expertly undresses me and gets me in a nightgown.

"How do you feel?" He asks quietly, getting in beside me. I shrug.

"Tired. And my back's starting to hurt," I admit. Peeta gently nudges me onto my side so he can massage my lower back. In minutes, I'm asleep.


	33. Teaser

And then I woke up.


	34. Stirring

On the day Gale leaves, we go to the train station to say goodbye. The weather is milder now and I'm glad it's raining because it hides the fact that I'm crying as Gale gets on the train. Peeta hooks his arm into mine.

"Let's go home, okay?" he suggests, gently leading the way. I lean my head on his arm, feeling an overwhelming sense of change right then. It's difficult to explain, but I'm sure it has everything to do with the lack of Gale and future increase of Mellark in District 12. By the time we get home, I'm shaking with cold and fear. The same questions that haunted me the day I found out I was pregnant race through my mind. How can I raise a child? What if things aren't safe? What if they don't want to be born? Peeta hangs my coat up for me and offers to run a warm bath for me. I decline, although it's sweet of him.

"Then let me make you lunch before I go to work," he cups my chin in his hand to kiss me. "It's the least I can do."

"Sure, thanks," I smile and give him another kiss before I go sit down in the living room. The thing is it's certainly not the least he could do. The least he could do is give me a hug, tell me to rest, and go to the bakery. That's not Peeta, though. You could ask him for a piece of bacon and he'd buy you the farm because that's the 'least he can do.'

I flip through a magazine my mother's left while Peeta cooks. It's filled with casserole recipes and knitting patterns. It makes me feel queasy. When Peeta comes in with grilled cheese and vegetables, he rubs my back lightly.

"You don't look so good, Katniss," he says concernedly. I shrug and take a huge bite to reassure him.

"I'm just hungry," I explain between bread and gooey mozzarella cheese. He doesn't seem to buy it. The look on his face screams skepticism, but I do my best to ignore it.

"Do you want me to call your mom or Erin or someone to stay with you while I'm at work?" he returns to rubbing my back.

"Peeta, I'm pregnant. Not made of glass," I argue.

"What if you're sick?" the crease on his forehead deepens.

"Then I'll be sick. I've been sick before, you know," it would be nice to have some company while he's gone, however I'm too stubborn to admit that now. Peeta kisses my cheek and then strokes it with his thumb. I relax into his hand. "I don't want you to go," I whine. He chuckles softly, leaning back on the couch.

"That's a different opinion than you had two days ago," he teases. I set the half-eaten grilled cheese on the coffee table and lean back with him. My head rests comfortably over his shoulder. Peeta tucks my head under his chin and wraps an arm around me. "I'll stay a little longer," he gives in. I nuzzle his neck and kiss him there. All I want is for the strange feeling in my stomach to go away. It's like butterflies have taken over and are trying to fly out my throat.

"Are you still scared, Peeta?" I ask quietly, almost hoping he doesn't hear. Of course he does, though.

"I was never scared. I was just overwhelmed suddenly," his voice is calm and casual. I know he's rehearsed this answer to make it the most reassuring. "But I'm not overwhelmed anymore either. I'm so excited," I sit up a little so I can give him a proper kiss. He smiles under my lips but pulls away first. "Are _you_ scared?"

"Yes," I say before my brain can catch up to my mouth. Peeta's beautiful blue eyes widen slightly. "Well, I'm scared of something going wrong. I'm not scared to be a mother," I attempt to fix what I've said.

"Katniss…" Peeta sighs and rests a big, warm hand on my swelling stomach. "You can't be scared. You have to be strong. I won't let anything happen to our baby. I promise," at this, I lean forward into him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I start to cry for no good reason. His strong arms envelope me, holding me tight to his chest. I can feel his heart through his shirt, beating steadily. He whispers in my ear that everything will be okay, he's right here, and he loves me.

After a minute, he gently lifts my face up so he can wipe away the tears and pepper me with kisses. I stop myself from crying anymore. I don't like how weepy I've become, but I know Peeta understands that it's just the hormones.

"Do I need to stay home this afternoon?" he asks quietly. I shake my head, my braid coming loose. "Okay, well, I'll bring you home a treat tonight," he promises. This time, I nod and smile. I get up so he can get his coat and boots on. "I love you, Katniss," he gives me one last kiss before he heads out in the snow and rain. I watch him jog down the street from the window.

"I love you, too, Peeta," I murmur to myself before reaching for the phone in the living room. He's been gone for thirty seconds and I already feel lonely. I call Erin because I know she'll be home. I don't want to talk about tuna casserole with my mother; I just want innocence.

"Hello?" her voice is joined by static because their phone is an older model.

"Hey, it's Katniss. Do you want to come over?" I feel like a 16-year-old. "Peeta went to work," I justify myself for my own sake.

"Yeah, of course. I'll be there in five minutes!" Erin excitedly replies. I agree with this and she hangs up. I sit on the couch to finish the lunch Peeta made me. Suddenly, five minutes seems like an eternity. The butterflies start to feel worse, making me wonder if I'm going to throw up or not. I decide not to eat the crusts on my sandwich, throwing them outside for birds to eat. I'm hugging my stomach when Erin knocks and lets herself in.

"Hello…?" she calls, and I hear her stamping wet snow off her boots.

"I'm in here!" I yell back, choosing not to stand and possibly throw up. Erin comes in, all smiles, her cheeks rosy red from the cold. She sits and gives me a quick hug, her cold cheek presses against mine. "Was it raining out?" I ask when she pulls back. I reach out to feel how wet her hair is. Sure enough, there are droplets of water covering her hair.

"Only a little," she starts to gather her hair in a ponytail when I stop her.

"Wait! I'll braid it for you," I suggest. The look of pure elation on her face makes me forget about being scared or sick. Quickly, she sits on the floor in front of me. I start to section her hair like my mother did for me all those years ago. I'm slow because I haven't done this to another person since Prim. Erin doesn't mind. She sits with her knees tucked under her chin, telling me all about school and her family.

"Erin, can you tell me something?" I ask, a thought suddenly coming to me. She nods and I pause in braiding to ask her. "When do they start teaching you the Hunger Games at school?"

"Well, they mention it briefly in every History class. But they don't actually teach it until third grade," she replies. I breathe a sigh of relief. That's a long way away. Peeta and I have plenty of time to figure out answers to the inevitable questions. And we'll certainly have time to tell our son or daughter on our own time, not according to school.

"Okay, well, I guess that's good," I smile and finish off the braid, draping the tail of it over her shoulder. "There. Perfect."

"Thank you so much, Katniss!" Erin stands and checks it out in the small mirror on the mantel.

"Yeah, no prob –" suddenly, something happens in my stomach. My hand clamps down over it. Am I going to be sick? But it felt too painful to be nausea.

"Katniss? Are you okay?" Erin returns to my side, putting a hand on my shoulder when I feel it happen again. The butterflies have turned into birds, desperately wanting out. Gently, Erin moves my hand away and lays her hand there instead, feeling on the outside what I'm feeling on the inside. It happens for a third time and I whimper in fear. However, Erin smiles. "It's kicking, Katniss!" she exclaims, her smile growing.

"Call my mother, please," I beg, leaning back on the couch. Erin grabs the phone and dials the number I tell her. I barely register voices as I lose myself in my own head. It's hard to describe, but I'm scared. This is all so unfamiliar, almost unnatural. I can't do it. I want this baby out. I want everything to be okay. When Erin returns to my side, she brings a glass of water with her. I'm too shocked to drink. I want to cry and scream, but that's not an option.

"Are you excited?" Erin asks optimistically. I shake my head.

"I'm terrified," my voice does not sound like my own. It's quiet and reluctant. Erin takes to rubbing my back calmly. I half-wish my mother wasn't on her way. I want to be alone and yet I can't be at the same time.

The next few minutes are silent until two things happen at once: the front door flies open, and the baby decides to kick in a new place. I lean forward, my mouth open in shock.

"Katniss, I heard it moved! Katniss, honey, what's wrong?" Peeta has come barging into the house, out of breath with his coat still on. He kneels in front of me; his large hands cover my stomach, hoping to feel a kick or a punch.

"No, Peeta, I want it to stop!" I yell, pushing his hands away from me. He frowns and looks deeply confused.

"Erin, will you give us a moment?" he asks her, taking her spot beside me on the couch when she gets up and goes to the kitchen. "What's wrong, Katniss? Talk to me," Peeta's voice is calm and relaxing.

"I don't like it. Make it stop," I take his hand in mine and squeeze it. He kisses my temple.

"It's a sign that the baby's healthy. We want it to kick and move around. Why don't you like it?" Once again, Peeta's patience impresses me.

"I don't know. I just don't. I never wanted to have kids."

"Even still? You don't want this baby?" Peeta's voice sounds absolutely heart-broken. I shake my head.

"I do, I really do! But it… it's…" I can't even articulate it to him, my best friend and husband.

"It's too real, too soon?" he fills in, using Haymitch's reasoning for Peeta's latest attack. I nod slowly. "That's okay to feel that way," he gently pulls me back so we can relax together. One hand pulls at the elastic in my hair so he can play with it, the other rests on my stomach, waiting for the next sign of life. "You just have to relax, okay. Make a list of things you're grateful for," he advises.

"Okay," I reply, immediately putting Peeta at the top of this mental list. The baby kicks again and I bite my lip. Peeta gasps and smiles at me in absolute joy. I find myself being smothered with kisses. He even kisses where our baby had moved.

"I love you both so much," he whispers.

"We love you, too," I say back and lean towards him for a long kiss. Erin interrupts us with tea, excusing herself to go home and start making dinner.

"Thanks Erin. See you later," Peeta says to her, smiling warmly.

"Peeta?" I say when the door closes.

"Yes?" he keeps playing with my hair, twirling it in his fingers while I talk.

"How did you know it was moving?

"Your mom called the bakery to tell me. I ran here as fast as I could," he smiles and pecks my cheek.

"Why didn't my mother come over?" I ask, not really expecting Peeta to know.

"She said this was our moment, not hers," I nod and yawn at the same time. "Let's go sleep, okay?" Peeta stands and pulls me up to go upstairs. "I'll make dinner tonight. Just for you," I'm too tired to argue that I can do it. Peeta tucks me into bed and kisses my forehead.

"Peeta, I want you to stay," I repeat my request from earlier, clinging to his hand.

"I can't, honey. But I promise everything will be okay."

And I honestly believe it will be.


	35. Can't Do It

Peeta stays until I'm asleep, rubbing my back for me. I sleep for most of the afternoon, dreaming of nothing solid, nothing in particular. The feeling of fear has dissipated for now, since Peeta was so excited about it. When my eyes open and take in the time on our alarm clock, I lay awake, stroking my stomach. It's slightly calming to think that it's just me and my baby in this moment.

The phone rings annoyingly loud, forcing me out of bed and relaxation. Holding the railing to stay balanced, I make it downstairs and to the kitchen where the phone sounds louder than ever.

"Hello?" I say, picking it up, hoping it's Peeta – demanding it to be Peeta.

"Watch your tone, sweetheart. I recently had a heart attack," Haymitch scolds hypocritically. I roll my eyes, wishing he could see.

"That was over a month ago," I correct him. "Why are you calling? Shouldn't you be punching something?"

"I've been sober since the attack. I'm not punching anything," he tells me. Although I'm irritated with him for calling, I must admit that I'm proud of him for this. It might have been terrifying, but the heart attack was just the wake-up call he needed.

"You didn't answer my first question," I remark, putting a hand on my hip.

"Right, right. Listen, you know that I don't like visits – Hell, I know you don't particularly enjoy them either – but I need to talk to you and Peeta. So, I'll be intruding after dinner. Make sure you have decaf coffee, because I'll want some," he orders. I furrow my brow. Intrude is right.

"Excuse me? You don't get to invite yourself over whenever you want," I argue. Not only is it incredibly short notice, but I'm not having a great day to begin with.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he continues, his voice softer and sincere for once. "It's about Johanna." I freeze and let my mouth fall open slightly. I can't deal with that conversation today. Not after saying goodbye to Gale and feeling the baby kick already. For a moment, I'm a stuttering mess on the phone.

"Peeta will make dessert to go with your coffee," I say in place of an agreement. My hands feel incredibly clammy as I hang up and set the phone back on the cradle. That's when I run to the sink and throw up everything I've eaten today.

XX

Peeta arrives home to find me in a frenzy, trying to cook Shepherd's Pie, while holding back tears. I don't notice him at first, not until he takes my wrist and pulls me to him for a hug.

"I told you everything's going to be okay," he says. I bury my face in his shirt. The fear in my chest is not about this baby or Peeta. I'm so scared of what Haymitch will say tonight what news he might have about Johanna's death or life. I don't know if my heart can take any more surprises. "I brought home a chocolate cake, just for you," he adds, hoping I'll put on a smile.

"Good. I'm sure Haymitch will love it," I say, feeling Peeta move away from me. One of his hands rests on my cheek; it's still a little floury.

"What do you mean?"

"He's coming over after dinner to talk," I reply, leaning into his hand. "I couldn't talk him out of it." Not like I really tried, though.

"To talk about what, exactly?" Peeta's other hand goes to my stomach as it so often does these days.

"Johanna," I whisper. He sighs softly and plants a light kiss on my forehead.

"Go upstairs and take a relaxing bath, okay? I'll finish dinner," he tells me. I shake my head defiantly.

"I've been resting all day, Peeta. I'm okay," I explain. "Really, I am," I add when he gives me a doubtful look.

"Fine, but I'm calling Haymitch to tell him not to come over," he crosses the room to the phone and starts dialling. He doesn't even finish punching in the numbers before I grab it from him and hang it up. "What was that for?" He asks a little incredulously.

"He already said he was coming!" I say angrily. "Just let him get whatever he needs to say off his chest!" I don't want to prolong this anymore. It's scary and unknown, but time isn't going to make it any better. Peeta puts his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, sorry, I was just trying to do the right thing for you," he explains.

"I can take care of myself, thank you." This comes from nowhere, and I want to take it back as quickly as I said it. But I can't now; it's out in the open, hanging in the air for us both to see. Peeta's cheeks blush a soft pink.

"I know you can. I'm just trying to help," to prove this, he sticks the Shepherd's Pie in the oven and sets the timer. There's a silence while I bit my lip and Peeta avoids looking at me in case I snap again. It's a pressing silence, begging me to fill it with noise.

"I have another appointment at the doctor's this week. Are you going to behave this time?" Peeta nods, looking a little like a puppy that's just been scolded. I'm so tense and I'm taking it out on him. I hate it.

"I'm going to go have a shower before dinner," he's quiet when he speaks. "I'll leave some hot water for you, don't worry," he smiles weakly, making a joke, but I don't smile back. I feel sick with myself. How can I be so awful to him? It's been as rough a month for him as it has for me. In no way do I get more pity than he does. I sink onto one of the kitchen chairs, immediately wanting Peeta back down here with me. Even his presence is reassuring. It's the thing I most crave these days, but I hadn't gotten much of it after his escape to the woods. The roles had been reversed then. The baby moves inside of me, not kicking, but I can feel it.

"Stop in there," I say, looking at my stomach. "Give me a break." It doesn't listen. What did I expect? No one listens to me.

XX 

I calm down by the time dinner is ready. I eat everything on my plate, but it makes me feel truly sick. I swallow, take a deep breath, and lean back in my chair. Peeta takes this as his cue to get up behind me and rub my shoulders. I shrug him off gently.

"Are you still… stressed?" he asks, trying to be nice. I would have described my mood as 'pissy.' Peeta's classier than that.

"No. Just sick." I admit before clamping my mouth shut so I don't spew across the table.

"How sick? Should I call Haymitch and cancel?"

"Don't!" I desperately rub my aching stomach. "Don't you dare cancel." With not much grace, I push my chair back and rush to the bathroom. Peeta follows in close pursuit. I allow him to hold my hair back while I empty dinner into the toilet. It's exhausting, so I lean back into Peeta's chest while he rubs my arms. He lets me rest for a couple minutes before his support falters and he's trying to help me to my feet.

"Haymitch will be here soon," he hands me the glass beside the sink to fill with water. "Rinse your mouth out first," I do as I'm told. While I'm still spitting into the sink and Peeta's still rubbing my lower back, Haymitch lets himself in, calling out to us.

"In here!" Peeta shouts, making me cringe. "Sorry," he blushes and kisses my temple. The scruffy face of Haymitch Abernathy pokes into the bathroom.

"What's wrong with you?" he asks bluntly. I scowl.

"She was sick after dinner. I think you'll have to wait till tomorrow for cake, Katniss," Peeta answers for me. "Let's go sit down. You wanted coffee, Haymitch?" He's rushing it. I know he is. He always has when it came to something he didn't want to hear. To calm him down, I lay my hand on his shoulder.

"Decaf, Peeta," I tell him. "We'll wait for you to start," I smile and lead Haymitch to the living room while Peeta returns to the kitchen. I take a spot on the couch, surrounding myself with pillows to stay comfortable. Haymitch, predictably, takes a seat in the armchair.

"How's your day been, sweetheart?" he looks at me with real concern. The sarcastic reply dies on my lips. He really does care. I need to keep reminding myself of this.

"I felt it kick," I make my voice stay neutral. "For the first time." Haymitch's face pales slightly and he swallows hard.

"I never felt mine," it takes me a moment to realize what he means. Immediately, I feel guilty for hating the feeling of life inside me.

"You can feel this one if you want," I suggest. Slowly, Haymitch leans forward, kneeling in front of me to rest his hands on my stomach. Nothing happens inside me, although Haymitch waits patiently, expectantly. Peeta returns with coffee, giving us a funny look.

"I guess it's tired," I offer weakly. With a sigh, Haymitch takes his seat and accepts the drink from my husband. Tears suddenly leap to my eyes. I'm so conflicted about the kicking baby inside me. And now, we have to talk about Johanna.

"What did you want to discuss?" Peeta asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He looks so eager to absorb whatever Haymitch has to say. It reminds me of a 16-year-old boy with the same blonde and blue eyes awaiting the words of wisdom that will keep him alive. Haymitch clears his throat.

"I've been in contact with Cordelia Morgane to discuss Johanna's last few years. The silly woman barely had any records," he rolls his eyes in an Effie-like fashion, but I know he's being insulting to stay away from deeper feelings. "In short, Johanna was treated for her depression and anxiety until she became pregnant. She never marries, spent a lot of time in District 4. She had a house in 7, but no valuable possessions. They sold all her clothes and things," he pauses to rub the scruff on his chin.

"There's nothing left?" Peeta asks a hint of anger in his eye. I myself feel slightly violated, even though they didn't sell all of my things.

"Only one thing that I truly care about," he admits. "Johanna's daughter is still there, living with this Morgane woman," he opens his mouth as if to continue talking, but seems to think better of it. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a white piece of paper. "Just read this." He hands it to Peeta who unfolds it. It's the same type of paper I received in the mail how many weeks ago. I read over Peeta's shoulder.

_Dear Mr. Haymitch Abernathy,_

_I am so pleased to hear back from you. DeAnna is absolutely thrilled by the idea! Based on the dates and information you have supplied me with, I think it would be best to come on the third week of February. Please give my best to Mr. and Mrs. Mellark._

_Yours truly,_

_Cordelia Morgane, District 7 Escort_

"So, you're going to go see her? DeAnna, I mean," I ask, my voice sounds thin. Haymitch shakes his head.

"She's coming here. And she wants to meet the two of you," he explains. My jaw nearly drops to the ground.

There are two days until Johanna's daughter gets here. I'm not ready for this at all. I shake my head a little.

"We didn't agree to this. We're not prepared to meet her," I explain with a hint of hysteria. Peeta slowly folds the letter back up and hands it to Haymitch.

"I think it's a good idea," he admits quietly, looking at his feet. Some sort of offended noise escapes my lips.

"You would," I say scathingly, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Of course I would. I know Johanna would do it for our child if the roles were reversed. She would make an effort." Peeta argues back gently.

"Fine, then _you_ can meet her. But I can't. Not in two days."

"What's gotten into you, Katniss?" Haymitch's tone is once again full of anger. I stand, wobbling a little, feeling a wave of nausea that I ignore.

"I'm pregnant. That's what's gotten into me!" I try to storm away angrily, barely hearing Peeta say he'll 'talk to me.'

_No, you won't,_ I think, climbing the stairs. _If I can't do it, I can't do it._ I get my pajamas on and crawl into bed, turning off the light. I don't bother waiting for Peeta to come up to bed before falling asleep.

I can't do it.

**A/N I will not stop updating, no matter how much time has gone by since I last posted a chapter! I'm going to finish this thing! If you guys are feeling desperate for more, send me a PM and I'll get it in my email. It makes me update faster ;)**


	36. The Decision

I fall asleep without Peeta and wake up the same way. The note he's left on the bedside table says he's at work but he wants to talk when he gets home. The bottom is signed with a bunch of x's and o's. I don't know what he thinks there is to talk about. I've already told him no; there's no way I can make it any clearer.

My trip to the bathroom this morning does not include vomit. Maybe I'll finally be over the morning sickness. Surprisingly, there's breakfast already on the table for me when I get downstairs: hot cereal and cheese buns, along with blueberries and tea. He knows me too well. I manage to eat it all and lean back in my chair, missing the massage that so often comes after eating. The urge to go hunting is strong today, but I know I can't. With a protruding stomach, there's no way I can bring the arrow back far enough to get a good shot. Besides, Peeta and Haymitch would kill me if I went. Still, I want to be moving, getting fresh air. I decide a walk can't hurt seeing as I'm not nauseous yet.

I get dressed and braid my hair before getting my coat and boots on. Since its February, I decide against a hat, but I slip on gloves to keep my hands warm.

The sun shines brightly as I step out. The air is still and smells like rain. Puddles litter the sidewalk, reflecting light to create rainbows on the pavement. My walk takes me past Haymitch's where a few geese have wandered to the gate to honk at passers-by. I've always hated those geese. They're loud, and Haymitch never lets us butcher them to eat. They're always sent to the Capitol for that. Feels like a waste to me.

Things are quiet until I get to town where everyone is getting their shopping done. There are line-ups at all the fruit and vegetable stalls; hot corn on the cob is selling quickly. People still trade; a spool of thread for a swath of fabric, buttons for fresh eggs. The lines are all short compared to the one flooding out of Mellark's bakery. Peeta will be busy today, probably home late, too. It doesn't bother me like it usually does. There'll be less time to talk about DeAnna tonight.

"Hiya, Mrs. Mellark," a boy around 8 or 9 years old waves to me. I don't recognize him, but he seems to know me very well.

"Hi," I reply, smiling a little.

"We learned about you in school today. You're so brave," he continues, his voice filled with absolute admiration. He trots along beside me, telling me every compliment he knows until another boy runs up and tags him.

"I said no 'touch-backs!'" He complains, but takes off running anyway. "Bye, Mrs. Mellark!" he shouts back to me. I smile to myself, the innocence of children refreshing me. If it wasn't Johanna's daughter, I think I would like to spend time with DeAnna. But the fact of the matter is that it _is _Johanna's daughter and I'm afraid they'll have the same eyes, the same laugh, the same nosy mind. Then again, would it hurt more to find out she's nothing like her mother? I don't know and I find myself not really caring. Won't make any difference what she's like because I won't meet her.

My feet lead me towards the edge of town to where the Meadow is. I can only remember the last time I was here because it was so monumental in my life. It's the place where Peeta proposed – for real. He'd told me that he'd never been to the Meadow, and maybe I wanted to have a picnic there since it was very pretty. I had almost said no about going. I didn't make it a habit to go there anymore – I still don't – and in the days leading up to it, Peeta had been acting funny. I'd attributed it to an oncoming attack, but it had simply been nerves.

Now, however, it seems to call to me. I see they've put in park benches to sit on, so I take a seat and close my eyes. The wind is colder here without the protection of buildings or trees. In my mind's eye, I see myself here with Gale, talking about the Games or what we'd caught. It seems much more innocent, but it's not. Things are so much better now.

Except for with DeAnna, I realize. She was born into a world of freedom and choice, but she's not really free and her own mother gave her no choice. I look down at my stomach and frown, thinking about the life inside me. Peeta's words from last night reverberate through my head: "Johanna would do it for our child… she'd make an effort." I begin to question that. Would she make an effort? Johanna Mason, who put the most effort into winning the Games and getting better for the war, put no effort into loving people or caring for them. There always had to be something in it for her. _Her_ glory, _her_ freedom.

It's all so confusing, because I know Johanna tried to care about me and Peeta, that she must have loved Finnick and Annie. Right now, all I can be sure of is that I can't figure this out on my own. I need Peeta, who can read people so well.

With a deep breath, I stand and walk back towards the bakery. The lines have dwindled after the morning rush. I'm able to wait in line inside. Nearly everyone turns to greet me. A couple people wish to shake my hand. I hate that we can still be the talk of the town after fifteen years.

When it gets to be my turn, Thom smiles brightly.

"What can I get you today, Mrs. Mellark?" he asks exuberantly. Peeta's found himself a replica alright. 

"I just need to talk to Peeta." I explain.

"Sure thing," Thom opens the door to the back and calls for the baker. "There's a very pretty girl here to see you," he says, making me laugh a little.

"Watch what you say, Thom. I talk to your girlfriend often," I tease just as Peeta emerges, wiping frosting from his hands.

"Katniss, what's up?" he pulls me out of the line to give me a quick peck on the lips.

"I know you said we could talk tonight, but I want to talk _now_," I say quietly. My pleading voice must be enough. He takes off his apron and exchanges it for a coat before taking my hand.

"I'll be back in a bit, Thom," he explains, then leads me out the door. At first, I think he's going to take me home; however he starts walking in the opposite direction. "Do you want to start talking now or when we get there?" he asks.

"Get where, Peeta?" I look ahead of us, trying to guess where he's taking me.

"The woods," he says simply. I stop walking and pull him back. "What's wrong? Don't you want to go? It'll be private."

"Peeta, relax. I think it's a good idea so we aren't overheard, but…" I sigh, trying not to laugh. "The woods aren't over here. They're back there," I jerk my thumb behind us. He looks thoroughly confused. "Come on," this time, I lead the way, deciding not to speak until we're settled on a fallen tree.

"Okay, what do you want to say?" Peeta takes both my hands in his, listening attentively.

"Did Johanna love us?" I blurt.

"Of course," he replies, but it sounds automatic.

"How do you know?"

"Because when we were being tortured in the Capitol, she kept calling out for us. Me because I was there, and you because she loved you." I've never heard this story and it makes me feel sick. One of Peeta's hands cups my cheek. "She lived with you in 13 and she felt safe with you. She knew she could count on you," I shake my head.

"But after… we hadn't spoken in ten years, Peeta. How do you stop loving someone like that?" I'm on the verge of yelling and Peeta knows this.

"You don't. You didn't stop loving Gale," he points out. "Or your mother." It feels like a low hit, but he needs to say it. "You didn't talk to them, but you still loved them. That's how it was with Johanna."

"But-"

"There are no 'buts', Katniss. That's the truth. Johanna was never good at showing her love for people. That didn't mean she didn't love you." Peeta interrupts.

"So, I _should_ see DeAnna?" I ask, clinging to the hand that's not on my cheek.

"I wish you would, but it's your choice." This is not as helpful as I thought it would be. I'd been expecting him to tell me exactly what to do. I guess he's right; it's my choice.

"Convince me to see her. Please." I beg. With a sad sigh, Peeta shakes his head. "Please!" I nearly shout. He gives me an astonished look, swallows, and leans in to whisper three words in my ear.

"She needs you," he kisses my ear and then my cheek, and then his lips are kissing away the tears that start to fall. He pulls me closer to him, one hand on my back, the other on my neck. And I cry, nodding my head against his shoulder.

"I need her, too," I say, admitting it only to Peeta and the few birds that sit on the bare branches. My cries echo through the woods, not for the first time and certainly not the last.

**A/N I will not stop updating, no matter how much time has gone by since I last posted a chapter! **


	37. DeAnna Mason

The day comes when we go to pick DeAnna up from the train station. After a lengthy conversation with Haymitch - where I didn't shed any tears - it was decided that DeAnna should stay with us. So here we are now, watching the train roll in. I try not to shake it; it'll only make Peeta worry, and I want to be strong today. I have no idea what to expect, I don't know what she'll look like or how she'll act. Maybe she'll hate us. It's the same fear I have for our baby.

Passenger after passenger get off the train until... there she is, struggling to get her luggage of the train. She's the only young girl without a companion. She does look like Johanna. Peeta hurries forward to help her with her stuff. I stay rooted to where I am, waiting for Peeta to bring her to me. He introduces himself quite unneccesarily. She smiles nervously as Peeta points me out. I force a smile and wave. Why does she have to look so much like Johanna?

"Hi," I say when they get to me. My voice sounds unnaturally cheerful. "I'm Katniss. It's really great to meet you," I glance at Peeta to see if I'm doing a good job. He nods reassuringly, encouraging me to go on. "I don't know if Haymitch or Cordelia Morgane told you, but you'll be staying with us. If that's okay." I explain.

"That's good. I didn't really want to stay with Haymitch," she admits. I chuckle at the expression on her face.

"He's not a very good host, that's for sure," I agree. DeAnna relaxes her shoulders, feeling relieved that we're nice; the same feeling I'm getting about her. "Is it a far walk to the Victor's Village?" she asks. I rely on Peeta to finish making conversation.

"No, not far at all," he answers. "Don't worry, I'll carry your stuff for you," he smiles and adjusts the bag on his shoulder.

"Thanks. I tried to pack light, but... that clearly didn't work too well."

We walk in silence for a while. I want desperately to ask about Johanna, but that's probably not the best idea. So, instead, I wait for Peeta to start a conversation; he's best at it, after all.

"Was it a long train ride? I can't remember from the last time we went to District 7," Peeta doesn't disappoint. I hook my arm into his, feeling my baby move inside me. It makes my breath catch in my throat, but I'm much better at hiding how I feel about it.

"It was a half-day ride. I guess it isn't too bad," she tells us. I'm silent the whole way home, thinking about what it's going to be like with DeAnna here. Peeta's already getting used to it, making small talk and telling his usual corny jokes. He's already got the part of "Dad" locked in.

When we see home, I relax noticeably. Peeta opens the door and lets us girls in first. I watch as DeAnna takes in her surroundings. This can't be too different from the Victor's home she has in 7. I shed my coat and boots, heading straight for the kitchen to make tea.

"Here's the living room... and the kitchen," Peeta starts giving her the tour, pausing in the kitchen when he sees me with the kettle. "Do you want anything to eat or drink, DeAnna?" I turn to face her, prepared to get her whatever she wants. Peeta kisses my temple. If he'd really gotten his way, it would our 14 year old daughter here instead of Johanna's.

"If you're having tea, I'll have some, too," she tells me.

"Sure, and Peeta made sugar cookies if you want some," I point to the plate of cookies on the kitchen island that Peeta made so the house would smell good. The kettle starts screaming and I busy myself with pouring and stirring. "So... um, how's school?" Immediately after I say it, I want to face-palm myself. No adolescent wants to talk about school.

"School is alright," she answers, nibbling one of the sugar cookies. "It's difficult sometimes, because of my mother. She was a Victor like the two of you, and being the kid of a Victor isn't easy. The others look at you like you're some kind of superhero. But they just want to know you because of your parents." I almost miss the third cup of tea when she says this. She notices, too. "I'm sorry, I said something, didn't I?" I shake my head too hard at her question. I hadn't thought about that - in fact, I'm surprised it hasn't so much as crossed my mind.

"It's fine, DeAnna, really," I take a deep breath. "I'm just nervous about being pregnant, about being a mother," I say the thing I never admit out loud. But DeAnna makes me feel comfortable. She makes me feel like I'm talking to Johanna, who doesn't take crap from anyone - particularly not me. "It _is_ going to be hard for them, having us as parents."

"Katniss, it's okay," Peeta says gently. I feel the hormonal tears start and so I turn away from both of them.

"Sorry, just... sorry," Peeta tries to console me, but I gently brush him off.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," DeAnna apologizes again. "I didn't mean to upset you." I can't say anything in return. Eventually, I let Peeta wrap me in his arms. DeAnna is the one to break the silence. "Were you two close to my mom?"

"We were," Peeta answers, since my voice is not exactly trustworthy right now. "But time got the better of us," he smiles grimly, while I bury my face in his shirt. He rubs my back and becomes his cute self again, kissing me sweetly and wiping my tears. I turn back to DeAnna, taking another deep and cleansing breath.

"We were really good friends with your mom. She was really strong, DeAnna," I nod, wiping the last of my tears away. "And I'm truly sorry that I'm such a mess right now. Pregnancy, you know?" I try to smile. With shaking hands, I pass out the tea.

"It's okay to cry and be upset," wise words from such a young girl. Peeta drinks his tea in great gulps. I give him a look as if to say 'slow down.'

"I gotta go back to work. There are a couple cakes I have to finish," he explains, finishing his drink. "Are you going to be okay?" He directs this to me. I nod and give him a quick peck on the lips. He gives DeAnna a quick hug, making her stiffen slightly.

"Do you want to go sit in the living-room?" I ask, already leading the way. We sit in a comfortable silence, sipping tea. She's the first one to speak; probably guessed that I'm not a good speaker already.

"Do you know if the baby is a boy or girl?" she asks kindly.

"Not yet. I have an appointment later this week and I'll find out then." I reply. I'm not thrilled with this avenue of conversation, but it's a million times easier than talking about Johanna. "I haven't even thought about what I want it to be. I just want it to be healthy and safe," I smile and look down at my stomach, reminding myself that they are safe, whoever they might be in there. "Do you want to feel it kick? It never seems to stop these days," I offer. She places her hand on my stomach. There's an immediate nudge from my little one.

"You'll be a good mom, Katniss," she says. "Peeta will be a great dad. I don't think you need to worry about the baby being healthy and safe. I know that my mom eventually couldn't deal with life anymore, but I'm healthy and safe," Oh no. Not that topic. "I wish I had gotten to know her like you did. If it's okay, could you tell me stories about her?" DeAnna sounds extremely nervous, asking me to do this. She's also begging to know, underneath it all. I can't stand denying this to her.

"DeAnna... I don't know what stories to tell you." All the stories I know are from the war and I'm not sure she wants to hear those. "She was absolutely amazing, but life wasn't easy for her. Do you really want to hear that?" I ask, looking for the first time into her brown eyes. I want to tell her, I really do. But I'm afraid of putting Johanna in a bad light. I'm not exactly a weaver of words... that's Peeta's job.

"Do you think you could highlight the good things about her? The happy things? She had to have had some of those," she requests. She's asking the bare minimum of me, but it's still too much. "I know she won her Hunger Games, I know she wasn't exactly friendly to everyone, I know she tried to protect the ones she loved..." A thought strikes her, and her next question has a note of hysteria in it. "Do you think she killed herself because she didn't want to fail at protecting me?" I sigh sadly, looking at my lap.

"There are any number of reasons why she might have killed herself. None of them are very... justifiable," I admit. "It wasn't your fault. Johanna didn't hurt the people she loved unless it kept them safe. Whatever her reason, she did it for you," I tell her, adding to myself that she did it for us, too.

She must see how hard I'm trying to filter my thoughts. "It's okay. If you don't want to talk about it, I understand."

"No, no, DeAnna, I really do... I just don't know how. Not yet." I quickly explain. "Not a day has gone by since I found out that I don't wish she was here. I wish she was here telling me about pregnancy, about raising a child. I wish she was here to tell me to stop crying every time the baby moves." Except I'm nearly crying now. "I haven't had anyone to talk to about her. Peeta doesn't want to, and I'm afraid of giving Haymitch a heart attack. I _really_ do what to talk to you about her."

In a flash - when I'm desperate to find words and memories - I remember the book Peeta and I made. Johanna's in there. I know she is. "Stay right here; I have something for you," I say, jumping up to go look for it.

It's heavier than I thought, but I heave it back and set it on my lap to flip through. I don't stay too long on each page; there are other painful memories here. I finally get to Johanna Mason. The picture Peeta's drawn is absolutely beautiful. DeAnna curls up into my side to look at it, resting her head on my shoulder. It's oddly comforting. I look down at the paragraphs we wrote about Johanna. Our favourite memories, the tribute parade, her interviews, our first impressions and last encounters. It's all here: all the things we could remember about her when we wrote it 15 years ago. A tear hits the page. When I look up at DeAnna, she has watery eyes, same as me.

"Oh, honey, it's okay," I say, my voice shaky. I put my arm around her shoulder and hold her close. There's nothing I want more right now than to comfort this girl, who I'm sure - if we'd been better friends over the years - would have called me Aunt Katniss all her life.

"You'll be a good mom," DeAnna repeats. I quietly shush her as we both cry together. She eventually falls asleep, but I simply drape a blanket over us and don't move. I look at the book some more. There are a lot of painful things in here, but I don't feel so upset looking at them. There were really good things that came from these people and these events. DeAnna is living proof of that.

When Peeta gets home, he asks me how it went. I need only hold up the book and he gets the picture. I feel DeAnna shift under me while I'm still rubbing her back.

"Do you want some dinner, DeAnna? Peeta will make stew if you want," I say quietly, sweeping hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. I thought at first that it was hard to look at her because she looks so much like Johanna, but it's actually very reassuring. DeAnna shows that sweetness that Johanna never could. "And he brought home cake from the bakery." I add with a small smile.

"Stew sounds good," she sits up properly while Peeta bounds off to make dinner. "Thank you," she says just to me. I can hear in her voice that she wants to say more but can't find the words.

"Don't worry about it," I reply, knowing exactly what she is thanking me for. How many times did I want someone to sit with me and hold me, as I have just done for her? Too many. And before Peeta, I never got it.

I fold the blanket up and go with her to the kitchen. "Haymitch wants to meet you tomorrow if that's okay," I explain before we can talk about Johanna again. "This was his idea, admittedly."

"Are you and Peeta going to be there with me when I meet him?" She asks with a touch of anxiety.

"Of course," I say as if the idea of us _not _going is ridiculous. Her shoulders relax after this. She's probably only heard of Drunk Haymitch.

Dinner is delicious - as it always is when Peeta makes it - and DeAnna is a sweetheart. When it's time for bed, Peeta is the one to show her to her room and make sure she's okay. My ankles are getting too swollen to do much. DeAnna gives me a hug when we part ways in the hallway.

I get a long foot massage from my husband. I fall asleep with his arm comfortably over my stomach. However, it does nothing to stop the nightmares that come; this time, it's Johanna being eaten and killed by mutts. I know I scream, waking the whole house.

I sit straight up in bed. Peeta does his best to comfort me. "It's okay, Katniss. It's okay," he soothes, kissing my temple and holding me close to him. I clutch him as if he's going to disappear if I don't hold on tight enough. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asks. For once, I nod.

"It was... it was Johanna," I manage to choke out. I wipe my eyes and continue. "She was completely surrounded by mutts, and... I didn't do anything to save her. She didn't fight back, either. She just let them tear off her limbs and eat her!" I'm nearly in hysterics now. "And I couldn't... I couldn't even feel sad or disgusted by it. I was just angry at her for letting it happen. I hated her... and I hate her now for leaving!"I cry out, bursting into fresh tears. Peeta doesn't say anything for a long time. And when he does, it makes me feel worse.

"DeAnna... it's okay," I turn and see the poor girl standing in our doorway, watching me breakdown.

"You don't mean that. You don't hate her," she chokes back a sob. Peeta holds a hand out for her while I stare at her. I'm speechless. She's right, of course. I don't hate Johanna. Peeta makes DeANna sit on the bed and he strokes her hair like he's rubbing my back. I lean my head on his shoulder and he sighs quietly.

"Katniss, you don't mean that and we all know it," he says gently. "Please take a deep breath and try to tell us how you feel." I do as he says because he's my husband and usually right about these things.

"I'm just not sure what to think, Peeta," I close my eyes and watch my dream play out on my eyelids. "We were so alike... I don't want to do what she did." I lay a hand on my stomach but there is no movement. Baby Mellark must still be sleeping.

"You don't have to. And you won't. Johanna was mostly alone, but you are not," Peeta explains, lifting my chin up so he can wipe my eyes and cheeks. "And now we have DeAnna. Aren't you happy about that?" He smiles gently at the other girl who's crying. I nod because I am so happy to have her here with us.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, barely audible.

"It's okay," DeAnna says first, reaching over Peeta to hold my hand. I squeeze her hand in what I hope is a reassuring way. I want her to know that it _is_ okay. I blink back the last of my tears, calming down exponentially with DeAnna and Peeta here to hold my hand and rub my back. Peeta cautiously puts his arm around DeAnna in a fatherly way. I feel like crying again. I always knew Peeta would make an excellent father; he's patient and protective and acts like a kid himself sometimes. But I can be absolutely sure of it now. He's so gentle with her - and me - as if he thinks she'll break if he holds her too hard.

"What's wrong?" Peeta asks, catching the look on my face.

"Nothing," I say quickly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Then I cup DeAnna's chin in my other hand and smile at her. "I love you both, okay?" I kiss her forehead like my mother used to do with me when I was younger. "And I love your mother, too. I promise."

"Love you, too, Katniss," Peeta says. "Now, let's all get back to bed." He gets up to bring DeAnna back to bed, make sure she' really okay. I stay up and wait for him. He takes longer than I thought. When he finally returns, he has tear-stains on his t-shirt and I can quickly guess that DeAnna buried her face there to cry. I do it, too.

"Peeta, are you okay?" I ask when I see that his eyes are red. When he only nods and doesn't say anything, I know something is wrong. "Tell me," I press gently.

"I can't stand the two of you so upset. And I miss her, too," he admits. I run my fingers through his hair. It relaxes him more than a back massage.

"You're allowed to cry, Peeta," I say quietly. "We're here for each other, right?" He nods and closes his eyes. I play with his hair until he falls asleep. When I get comfortable on my side, I join him in dreamland.

There are no more nightmares tonight.

**A/N HUGE thank you to AlexMichele for this chapter! Would not have happened without her ;)**


	38. It's A Girl

When DeAnna meets Haymitch, he conforms to almost every assumption she's made of him. He's grumpy, grizzly and blunt. At least he's not drunk.

I'm not sure if Peeta catches on – he must, since he's so observant – but I notice the sad look that appears on his face every time DeAnna looks away. He's torturing himself. So when we arrive at the Meadow, I nudge Haymitch, imploring him to start the Johanna talk.

"Do you want to hear a good story about your mom?" he asks casually, as if it's not exactly what I told him to say on the phone this morning.

"Sure," DeAnna listens as carefully as she can. This is the most important thing for her. Haymitch launches into the story of Johanna at mine and Peeta's wedding. She'd been the one running up and down the Meadow with a sparkler in each hand. I wonder if she'd been pregnant at the time. There's a possibility, but I don't know DeAnna's birthday.

I start to slip my hand out of DeAnna's, intending to walk with Peeta and give them some privacy. Clearly, DeAnna has a different idea. Her grip tightens and she moves a little closer to me. I don't try again, just stay by her side and listen.

Haymitch has stories about Johanna that I've never heard. Apparently, she was just as ruthless at getting her tributes sponsors as she was in the arena. There are stories of pranks – particularly on Finnick – stories of training sessions and interviews. There's one story of Johanna's Victory Tour. By the time Haymitch has exhausted himself of tales, we're almost in tears from laughing. DeAnna appears the happiest I've ever seen her.

"Thank you," she says so genuinely that it catches Haymitch off-guard.

"It's nothing," he shrugs.

"Why don't we head home?" I interject before anyone can ruin the happy moment. My feet hurt anyway, and I can tell Haymitch needs one glass of white liquor.

"Sounds good," Haymitch agrees, beginning the trek back to the Victor's Village. DeAnna lets go of my hand only because Peeta offers a piggyback ride. I love all this 'dad practice.'

"Those were good stories, Haymitch," I murmur to him. "It means a lot to all of us that you shared them." Haymitch's arm goes around my shoulder.

"Anything for Johanna. Anything for DeAnna," he admits. "When's your doctor's appointment?" I stick my hands in my jacket pockets.

"Tomorrow at one," I reply. "You still want to go?" This question is definitely unnecessary. Of course he still wants to go. But Haymitch is his usual annoying self and shrugs as if he's indifferent. "Oh, shut up," I chide.

"I'm not saying anything, sweetheart," he chuckles. "I'll be at your house at 12:30 tomorrow." Ahead of us, DeAnna can't stop laughing, desperately trying not to fall as Peeta spins in circles.

"Careful!" I call out, envisioning someone's skull being cracked open. Peeta lopes towards us and kisses my cheek.

"Of course, Mother," he teases before setting off in a run. Haymitch doesn't bother holding back his laughter.

"Okay, that's enough out of you," I point my finger sternly at him. It only makes him laugh more.

When we get back home, Haymitch sits on our porch swing, looking wistfully out at the rest of the Victor's Village houses. Peeta lets DeAnna down and nudges her toward Haymitch. She sits down somewhat cautiously.

"We'll just be inside, okay?" I smile at the sight of them and head into the house with Peeta. He's slightly out of breath while he takes off his coat and shoes.

"How are you feeling?" He asks gently, taking my coat for me. I shrug, having not thought about it until he asked me.

"My feet hurt again. And it refuses to keep still," I explain, heading for the couch. I know exactly what is coming next. Sure enough, Peeta sits on the couch at my feet, starting a thorough massage without needing to be asked.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" He asks, making sure to get my ankles. I close my eyes and mutter incomprehensibly. "Pardon?" he pinches my leg lightly.

"If you don't freak out, I'll be fine," I say much to his dismay.

"I won't freak out," he promises. I quirk an eyebrow at him. "In a bad way," he adds. To be honest, I'm not really that nervous. Not anymore. It'll probably hit me tomorrow, though. Once it has a gender, it's real. It's a person living inside me. "Do you want a boy or a girl more?" Peeta continues.

"Doesn't matter to me," I answer drowsily. Peeta notices, so he lightly rambles for a while about babies. His voice puts me at such ease that I feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness. Eventually, he nestles himself in beside me, rubbing my stomach. I get several kisses on the temple and cheek before he nuzzles his face in my hair and is still.

I wake up to find that Peeta's left my side. My back aches from sleeping on the couch and I vow to myself never to fall asleep there again. Suddenly, there's yelling.

"Why the hell would you do that to her?" Peeta shouts. I think his voice is coming from outside. It doesn't take long before there's a reply and I find out who he's screaming at.

"I thought she had a right to know!" Haymitch returns. I haven't heard him so angry since he really sobered up.

"She's 14 years old, Haymitch! That is not something you do to a 14 year old who's mother killed herself!" Peeta continues shouting. I make my way to the front porch where they're nearly at each other's throats – at least Peeta is. DeAnna's nowhere to be seen.

"What is going on out here?" I say stupefied, cutting Haymitch off. Peeta, although still fuming, answers me calmly.

"He told her about her father."

"And the problem is…?" I question. As far as I know, DeAnna's father was never in the picture.

"Tell her," Peeta says to Haymitch. "Tell her what you told DeAnna," he taps his foot impatiently.

"Her dad stuck around with Johanna for 2 months, and when she told him that she was pregnant, he ran off." Haymitch explains. I understand that this would be upsetting for DeAnna, but it does not justify Peeta screaming to the whole neighbourhood.

"Then why did she run back in crying about how her father died, too?" Peeta demands with teeth clenched. My stomach drops.

"I didn't say anything about that," Haymitch pales and puts his hands up. I believe him, but now is not the time to berate them for this. I take off back into the house, upstairs to the guest room. Slowly, I open the door and see DeAnna on the bed, sobbing. Without a word, I sit on the edge of the bed. Once she sees that it's me, she throws herself into my arms. I hold her tightly while she cries into my shoulder.

"It's not true. Whatever you're thinking is not true." I do my best to calm her down.

"How do you know? You don't know him," she says hysterically.

"Your mother would never have let it happen. I promise. Don't cry, honey," she pulls back and wipes her eyes on the back of her hand.

"You promise?"

"Absolutely. I know you don't know your dad, but that doesn't say anything about his character. Maybe he couldn't be there for you, even though he wanted to." I bring the poor thing back to me. She's no longer sobbing. I rub circles on her back to relax her.

"DeAnna? Katniss?" Peeta and Haymitch both stand in the doorway. "We're-" I cut Peeta off, holding my hand up to them.

"I want Haymitch to go home, and I want Peeta to go to my mother's for the night. You can both apologize tomorrow," I request calmly yet forcefully. For once, neither of them put up a fight. Haymitch waves sadly to us before leaving, while Peeta comes over to kiss our foreheads.

"Call me if anything happens," he murmurs to me. "I love you." For good measure, he puts his hand on my stomach before kissing my lips. When he's finally got his things together and leaves, DeAnna gives me a bone-crushing hug. 

"Thank you," she says while I stroke her hair.

"Of course," I reply. "I thought you might appreciate a girl's night."

XX

I call Erin over as well for dinner. Her and DeAnna hit it off right away, finding something to gossip about despite living in two very different Districts with very different lifestyles. I'm easily out of place because of my age, however it's almost therapeutic to listen to them. At some point, Erin convinces me to braid their hair. The two of them take turns sitting between my knees while I gently plait the dark hair on their heads.

We make popcorn on the stove and finally settle down to a move on the TV set we rarely use. As usual, Erin is allowed to stay the night. There is no hesitation from either of them to curl up on the couch with me.

"Okay, time for bed," I announce when the credits begin rolling and the clock is approaching midnight. While the girls wearily head up to bed, I call my mother's to talk to Peeta. She's still awake, not surprisingly, and happily hands the phone to my husband.

"Hi, Katniss. Is everything okay?" he asks, the hint of panic appearing in the last syllable.

"Yeah, she's not so upset anymore," I reply.

"Good. Look, I'm really sorry for yelling like – "

"Don't. I understand," I cut him off. "In all honesty, I would have done the same thing." I explain. "Anyway, I just wanted to say goodnight and I love you. And DeAnna loves you, too, so don't worry about that."

"I love you, too. And DeAnna. And our baby," I can almost hear him smiling through the phone. "Good night. Tell the girls I say the same to them."

"Of course, bye," we hang up. Upon arriving to my bedroom where I'd arranged for Erin to sleep with me, I find DeAnna sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Are you okay?" I ask gently, crossing the room to sit with her. I hear Erin in the en suite brushing her teeth.

"I'm fine. But… can I sleep with you tonight? I don't want to be alone." She says it so pitifully that I don't hesitate to agree.

"Sure. We can fit 3 of us on here," I pat the bed.

"Thanks," DeAnna puts her pajamas on and crawls into the big bed. Her and Erin pull the covers up to their chins to sleep. I'm left on the end, sweating, uncomfortable because of my stomach. Eventually, sleep finds me, and my body must know there's limited room here, because I don't thrash or cry tonight.

The next morning, I wake up to the smell of pancakes. Neither Erin or DeAnna are beside me anymore. I don't throw up on my way downstairs - thank God – but my stomach begins to church when I remember what today is: doctor's appointment day.

"Good morning, Beautiful," Peeta kisses my cheek when I enter the kitchen, his hands full mixing batter.

"Oh, morning," I'm a little surprised he's here. Peeta loves to sleep in when he can, and he definitely could have this morning. I even begin to wish he had. Attacks have always been less sever when he's well-rested. And I know neither of us can bear another one today.

"Do you want chocolate chip or blueberry?" he asks, pouring batter onto the pan for the girls.

"Whatever you're having," I answer, standing next to him so he can give me a kiss on the cheek. "Did you apologize?" I whisper just to him. He leans in, resting his forehead against mine.

"I tried, but she wouldn't let me. Too much like her mother," he smirks. I smile, thinking of how much that does sound like Johanna. However, that doesn't make my appetite any bigger when Peeta serves me a pancake the size of my head.

"I can't eat all this!" I say incredulously.

"Just try," I widen my eyes, cut it in half and 'try' to eat. The thought of my appointment keeps me from even eating half.

"Peeta, I can't," I push the plate away and make a face, feeling sick. He takes my plate and scrapes the pancake onto his.

"You did great. Deep breaths," he instructs. I rub my stomach, gripped with fear. What if the doctor finds something wrong with our baby? What if their life is in danger? Or mine? Peeta's hand going to my shoulder wakes me from these questions.

"Are you okay?" Looking around, I see all of them have worried faces. I nod and smile.

"Just, uh, lost in thought," I explain. They all seem to doubt this, but breakfast gets finished and I offer to do the dishes. Erin and DeAnna dry them while Peeta puts them away. We're a good team.

"Erin said she would take DeAnna to the movies this afternoon, so we're free to go to our appointment alone," Peeta explains when the two girls have left to get dressed.

"And Haymitch, he'll be there," I add. Peeta nods and rubs my back.

"Don't be nervous or scared, okay? Everything will be great today," he reassures me. But there's no way he can know that.

XX

Haymitch arrives at our place on time. Erin and Deanna have already left, so Haymitch misses out on an attempt at apologizing. The trip there is quiet because Haymitch and I are both nervous, and Peeta can't have a conversation with himself. The wait in the reception area is both too short and too long. There's no time to fidget or collect ourselves. We're just thrown into a room and I'm instructed to lie down and lift my shirt to reveal my stomach. In this position, I look mountainous. I can only imagine nine months. Peeta sits on the chair next to the exam table, holding my hand, kissing the back of it. Haymitch stands, looking entirely out of place in the room with a uterus diagram on the wall. The doctor comes in a few minutes later, all smiles.

"Exciting day, isn't it?" he chirps. I gulp, Peeta shrugs. Haymitch flips through a women's health magazine until he pulls a disgusted face and puts it down.

Jelly gets put on my stomach, making me squirm from the cold. Peeta's grip only tightens as the doctor uses some device to see the baby. He points at the screen, showing us the head, feet, hands, and finally… 

"Ready to know the sex?" he angles the wand and I can barely tell what we're looking at. Could be my breakfast and lunch for all I know. "Looks like you've got a very healthy baby girl," he announces. The colour drains from my face, but Peeta is already kissing me, happy tears brimming from his eyes.

"It's a girl, Katniss! We're having a little girl!" He is so extremely excited about it. But my mind is already racing. What if she hates us? What if a boy hurts her? What if they bring back the Hunger Games and she's reaped? But worst of all, I wonder what will happen if she's born with Peeta's merchant looks?

What if she looks exactly like Prim?


	39. Nightmare

Haymitch and Peeta take me home, talking animatedly. Peeta's arm never leaves my shoulders, protecting me and our _daughter_. I really can't believe that I will have a little girl in just a few months' time. I feel even less prepared than before.

"You're welcome to stay for a bit," Peeta says to Haymitch when we're standing in front of the house.

"No, you two should have some time to yourselves. Send DeAnna my way for the night," he replies good-naturedly. Peeta agrees and waves goodbye before opening the door for me. Now that we're home, my guard drops and I start shaking horribly. He catches me, steadies me, and brings me to the living-room.

"What's wrong? Are you sick" he asks, kneeling down in front of me. I can only shake my head and blink back the tears. "You have to talk to me or I can't help you," Peeta brushes hair away from my forehead and cheeks. I notice that I'm clammy, that my hair sticks to sweat. For a minute, I just hold his hands; let him keep them steady before I stammer out an answer.

"I just… I c-can't… a g-girl, Peeta…" he tries very hard to follow my stilted sentence. "I can't do it," I whimper.

"What can't you do?" I can only stare at him while I try to find words, try to articulate my feelings.

"Everything," I finally say. Peeta holds back a sigh and takes a seat next to me. "I don't want to hurt her or fail her. I don't want anything or anyone taking her from me."

"Shh, Katniss. We'll protect her. We can do it. _You_ can do it," he speaks calmly, tracing circles on my arm to relax me.

"But… what about you? I mean, you couldn't even listen to her heartbeat. H-how are you going to hold her in your arms, hear her cry or talk?" I demand harshly. It doesn't have a pleasant effect on my husband. He sighs and drops his head forward. "I'm sorry," I admit shyly.

"It's like you think I don't think about that. Katniss, I think about that all the time," he replies.

"So, what are you going to do about it?" I realize too late how selfish that sounds – how selfish it is.

"I'm going to do whatever I can. You know that. Are you really that scared I'll hurt her?" This question only makes my head hurt.

"Of course not, but… I am scared, Peeta!" I burst into tears, leaning forward to bury my face in my hands.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," He rubs slow circles on my back. "You don't have to be cared. We're all going to be okay. No one will ever hurt her. Just be brave. I know you are," Peeta leans down and kisses my temple. I throw myself into his arms. This feels like the Games, like the war, because I have to be brave. There's no other option.

Peeta allows me to go upstairs and take a nap when I've stopped crying, while he goes back to the bakery for a couple hours to finishes cakes for tomorrow. I honestly try to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, I see a tiny baby girl, and then she moves inside me. I'm also terrified that I'll have a nightmare (more than likely right now) and roll onto my stomach. So, I lay still and think. Over-think. A little girl. Like Johanna had. Like my mom had. I think about how they both failed those girls, they both gave up. For the first time, I find myself wishing it was a boy. It matters to me now. Hazelle had a boy first, so did Annie. I shouldn't be up, that's not right or fair. And then I'm upset with myself for being upset. I realize a little later that those first-born sons didn't have it great either; they both lost their fathers. And I refuse to lose Peeta like that.

Peeta comes home with flowers. I tell him I slept but I don't think he believes me. I've always been a terrible liar. For the most part, we're both quiet, until my troubled sighs get on Peeta's nerves.

"Enough, okay? If you have something to say, say it," he's not angry, but definitely irritated. In response, I press a kiss to his cheek.

"I don't want to make any mistakes with… her," I have to get used to using pronouns now.

"Katniss, I think we're bound to make mistakes in raising our daughter. It's our first baby," he wraps me in his arms. "No one's perfect," he admits, and I know he's talking mostly about himself, not me. For once, I _am_ comforted, reassured. Mistakes. Everyone makes them. And people forgive them. I smile warmly, feeling my daughter kick and punch and flail. It starts to feel nice.

"Thank you," I say to Peeta. "You always know just what to say." He smirks and kisses my forehead.

"Do you want to go take a real nap?" he laughs quietly when I pull a guilty look. "I know you didn't sleep. But it's okay," he starts to lead the way upstairs. "I'll be right here this time," It already takes me longer to get up the stairs with my bump. I'm not used to it, yet. Peeta's patient, goes one step at a time with me. He gets me tucked in, then lies next to me. I can still manage on my side, but my daughter is growing fast. Peeta falls asleep first, his forehead resting against mine. I'm soon in dreamland with him, having good thoughts and images in my head.

I don't wake up until it's dark out. My stomach growls from its lack of dinner. By now, Peeta's rolled over to his side of the bed. I don't bother waking him up. He deserves the time to rejuvenate. So, I get up by myself and go slowly downstairs to find dinner. We still have leftover squirrel stew, so I heat that up and grab a couple cheese buns to go with it. My mouth waters at the rich scent. The meal is gone quickly. I finish off with a chocolate cupcake that I hadn't known I'd wanted until I'd seen the package on the counter.

When I finally make my way back upstairs, my stomach is comfortably full. Maybe I should have gotten Peeta up, too. This regret disappears as I enter our bedroom to find Peeta thrashing in bed. I'm about to call his name when he screams. It's a terrifying scream, filled with fear, confusion, and hatred. I go to his side and try to shake him awake. It's hard when I have to dodge flailing limbs.

"Peeta, wake up!" I shout desperately over his own cries. "It's a nightmare. Just open your eyes." I lightly pinch his arm. When that does nothing, I panic and reach for a glass of water on the bedside table. He gets it right in the face, but it works. He sits up, spluttering and blinking water out of his eyes.

"Are you okay?" I take a step towards him, intending to dry his face on my sleeve. The look he gives me makes my skin crawl. I seriously fear that he'll attack me again. I let out a gasp and back away. He realizes what he's doing and immediately tries to back away, too.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he tries to make up for it.

"What was it this time? The nightmare?" I almost don't want to know, but he needs to talk about it. He shakes his head. "Please tell me. It'll help," I plead. There are already tears in his eyes. My poor Peeta.

"You… you had the baby," his voice catches and he fidgets. "And you let me hold her… and then…" he shakes his head again.

"You're okay, Peeta. It wasn't real," I do my best to comfort him from the other side of the room.

"You made me kill her," he whispers, so I barely catch it. "And then you tried to kill me." Now he's crying. "We didn't even name her." I'm silent. For the next few minutes, Peeta cries quietly.

"I can't be here right now," I eventually find the voice to say. Even though I'm supposed to feel like the dangerous one, I can't help but think what might have happened to me if I hadn't gotten up to eat. Bruises at the very best, that's for sure.

"Where are you going to go?" he asks, starting to get off the bed. I scurry o the door in fear. The look he gives me when I do this is the saddest I've ever seen.

"I'm sorry, Peeta. But I have to protect her, too, now. It would be different if it was just me." He seems to understand because he walks cautiously to our dresser.

"Then I'll go somewhere. Stay here and take care of her." He grabs a change of clothes, hesitating before walking past me without a kiss. I don't disagree with this action. He gets his toothbrush and then he's ready.

"Just stay safe. Please," I ask of him. He nods and gives a small smile.

"It's just a rough night, Katniss. I'll be back tomorrow and everything will be great." He leaves without saying anything else, without saying 'I love you.'

I should feel reassured. But the thing is, Peeta has been saying that for the past 15 years. Clearly things are not going to be 'great' by tomorrow.

**A/N: Writer's block is a cruel monster. **


	40. Foreshadow

Things the next day actually aren't terrible. You know, except for the fact that I don't see Peeta. He doesn't come home before going to work. I call him at lunch-time. He says he doesn't feel comfortable coming home tonight, but he loves me. It's all for our safety. He doesn't tell me where he's staying. I can only begin to guess. As long as it's not a park bench, I don't really think it matters. People care about Peeta. He'll be taken care of. As for me…

I spend my afternoon looking through the books of people we know. I don't cry today, though. For some unbeknownst reason, tears never come. It's not until I would expect Peeta home that I really begin to notice his absence. Our daughter notices, too, because she can't stop moving. I wish I could hold Peeta's hands over my stomach and let him feel, watch the expression of pure joy on his face. But I can't. I have to settle for my own hands, my own expression of wonder. In the end, I call my mother over for dinner. Then I call Haymitch to ask how DeAnna held up the night before.

"I think she's going to stay here for another night," he says. "Winnow's teaching her how to play card games."

"Just don't teach her how to gamble, okay?" I warn.

"Why would I ever do such a thing?" Haymitch asks sarcastically. "She says congratulations on the girl," he adds.

"Oh, thanks. Well, if you need any help, just call. I'm not doing anything tonight." I can tell Haymitch notices the singular pronouns. But he doesn't mention it.

"Sounds good. Talk to you later, Katniss," he hangs up just as my mother opens my door and calls out my name.

"In here!" I call back from the kitchen. She comes in, her arms outstretched, tears in her eyes.

"Oh, honey, a girl!" She smiles and wraps me tightly in her arms. "Aren't you excited?" She kisses my cheek while I nod.

"Yeah, it's crazy. I don't know if it's really sunk in yet," I admit. She pulls away and looks around.

"Where's Peeta?" she's expecting him to be here, all smiles. I sigh.

"He's not here right now," I take her to the living room to explain what happened the night before. She looks a little upset with Peeta, but her features soften in understanding.

"Do you need me to stay here tonight? In case you need anything?" She offers. It feels patronizing. As if, at five months pregnant, I can't possibly get a glass of water in the middle of the night if I'm thirsty.

"Mom, I'll be fine," I sound just like a teenager when I say this. She smirks in response.

"Just know that it's never too late – or too early - to call me. I've been pregnant twice before, you know," she pops a couple fresh berries into her mouth from the bowl on the coffee table.

"Okay, whatever," I rub my stomach. My mother doesn't mind the sass. She's right; she's been pregnant before. She's all too familiar with hormones. "Dinner's in the oven. I hope casserole is fine," I change the topic.

"That'll be wonderful." We sit in silence for a while. "How are your ankles holding up? Peeta mentioned the other night that they'd started getting swollen," she asks. I shrug, not really wanting to talk about Peeta.

"They haven't been too bad. I don't go out much, anyway," I admit. "Apparently hunting is discouraged when one becomes pregnant." It's the thing I've missed the most since gaining weight around my middle.

"That reminds me of when I got pregnant with you. Your father always begged me to come to the woods with him. When we found out about you, I told him there was no way I could go with him. He said to me: 'Eva, what if that baby loves the woods? You must take her as often as you can!'" At this, she chuckles to herself. I haven't heard her talk about dad in… well, ever, really. "I never did go with him. But he was absolutely right; you love the woods." We both smile a little sadly after this story. This must be close to how DeAnna feels when we talk about Johanna. Except she's probably more interested, because she doesn't really know her mother very well.

"Tell me another story about Dad. One I've never heard before," I ask, thinking I'll probably regret this later. Then again, I haven't talked about my father for 15 years. This is probably good for me.

She looks wistful for a minute, almost sad. But then it appears as though she's thought of something, because she smiles and clasps her hands together in her lap.

"Do you know the one about the day before our toasting?" She asks. I shake my head. "Okay, well, he gave both our families a bit of a scare. I was incredibly nervous, because my parents weren't exactly supportive. Your father was really good about dealing with it." She sighs, preparing for the rest of the story.

"Until the day before, when I waited for him at the mine entrance. He wasn't coming and he wasn't coming. I started to really panic because I thought there'd been some accident. One of his friends saw me and said he'd left early. So, I went home, thinking he'd be there with dinner or at least some flowers. But there was nothing. I had no idea where he was – actually, I did. But I had no way of getting to him."

"He was in the woods," I supply, not even bothering to be sorry I've interrupted. She smiles and nods.

"I was panicking, thinking he was running away from me for good. I could do nothing to get him back. It wasn't like he had friends that went into the woods with him. I mean, Gale always went to get _you._ But no one could get him.

I stayed awake all night. At least I tried to. When I woke up, I was still sitting on the arm chair, but someone had wrapped a blanket around me and taken my hair out. This time there was a note from your father. He said he was scared, but that he'd been more scared without me. He hadn't been able to spend one night away from me. I found him fast asleep in our bed, still in his mining clothes." She chuckles happily at this memory. "That was the only time he ran away. Though I know he thought of it often. If it hadn't been for Prim and my lack of outdoor skills, he would have taken us, I'm sure."

My heart pounds abnormally loud in my ears. So my dad had the same plans that I once did. He knew it would have been easier. He was also right not to take us there. Prim and my mother would never have lasted in the woods.

"Thanks for telling me that story," I say, meaning it.

"Of course, Katniss," she strokes my hair when I lean my head on her shoulder. "Of course."

Xx

The next morning is the same as yesterday. Lonely. Except after lunch, DeAnna comes back from Haymitch's.

"How's it going?" I ask after her big hug.

"Pretty good," she admits, but then her smile fades. "I think I should go home soon." I can't pretend I'm not surprised by this. I hadn't thought of her leaving.

"Oh. When? Why?" I do my best to hide my surprise.

"I was thinking today could be my last day. I miss my home and my friends." She explains. Slowly, I nod and pull her back for another hug.

"I understand," I say, though I don't think I'm quite ready to say goodbye to Johanna's daughter. "Do you have train tickets?"

"Well, I checked the train schedule yesterday, and one leaves tomorrow evening. I'm mostly packed… and I think I've exhausted Haymitch of stories," she smiles sweetly and pulls back. I gently hold her face.

"You'll be missed, DeAnna. And always welcome back," I explain, feeling the now-familiar prick of tears.

"Oh, please don't cry!" she hugs me tightly. "Or I'll start, too." I try to laugh instead of cry. It's a contagious action. Soon, we are both laughing over nothing. It's how we spend our last night together. DeAnna tells me story after story of her friends and their adventures. Falling asleep is so much easier with another person nearby

Xx

Somehow, I find it in me to make omelettes for us the next morning. DeAnna practically bounces in her seat, excited to be going home again. Only because I know I can't, I feel desperate to go to the bakery. Unfortunately, there is too much risk of seeing Peeta. At this point, I'm more angry than sad that he's gone off. I know it's for our safety, but three days is long enough. Right?

DeAnna suggests we spend our last day together doing something I enjoy. I can think of two things: being with Peeta, or hunting. I have to settle for a walk through the woods at this point. It's a warmer day today. Life feels somewhat normal as we walk through the trees. Leaves are beginning to bud; weeds poke through the wet dirt. I expertly point out the edible plants, the poisonous ones, and the fresh animal tracks. If DeAnna isn't sincerely interested, she's a very good actress.

We eat sandwiches and grapes for lunch, and then spend an obscene amount of time watching a robin rebuild a nest. Eventually, much to my dismay, the time comes for DeAnna to get to the train station. There is silence while we walk there. I am clueless on how to say goodbye.

For a moment, we just look at each other, trying to memorize what the other person looks like. I do not want to forget DeAnna like I forgot Johanna. I won't allow myself to do it.

"Bye," I finally find the voice to say.

"Thank you. For everything," DeAnna's arms find their way back around me.

"I want you to come back and visit, okay?" I make her promise. The train whistles, meaning DeAnna has to hurry. I feel panicked as I give her one more hug and kiss before sending her off.

She waves out the window for as long as she can. Then she's just gone, plucked from my life as quickly as she was dumped into it. With a hand on my stomach, I imagine how it will feel to send my own little girl to school, or to sleepovers. Will she one day ride the train by herself? Will she become close to DeAnna as she grows up? I can only hope.

In solitude, I walk home.

Preparing for another lonely night, I turn the lights off in the kitchen, close the curtains in the living room, and wonder how I have to pee _again_. The light in my bedroom is on, which is odd because I thought I'd turned it off. I head in and see a blonde man in just his pajama pants.

Peeta. Finally.

"Katniss… I'm back," he says truistically. In the moment, caught off-guard, I feel sick to see him here. "I've, um, been seeing a doctor, and he gave me some pills to relax. I'm okay now, I promise," he continues to talk, trying to get the pale and sickly look off my face. My hands start to sweat and my stomach churns. Maybe this isn't a reaction from seeing him again.

"Honey, are you okay?" he finally has to ask. I shake my head, feeling the wave of nausea. Nope, this is not from seeing Peeta. Immediately, he is leading me to the toilet. "I'm sorry I left."

I don't care if he's sorry or not. He left and now he's back. End of story. He always comes back. I will never hate him for it. I agree it's necessary, even if it's hard when he's gone.

The pain in my stomach does not stop, but does not make me throw up. Instead, I go to bed with my husband, and wake up feeling better.

If only I'd known.

**A/N I have not given up on this story. It was a hard summer! I will try to update more often, but school is starting again. Bear with me! We will get to the end eventually!**


	41. Caged

Over the next month and a half, my morning sickness stops altogether, my feet continue to swell, and Peeta's patience is put to the test with my fits of hormones. Our daughter spends much of her time kicking me and pushing on my bladder. In fact, Peeta comes home one evening to find me sobbing in the bathroom because I've wet myself. He doesn't laugh, doesn't tease, just helps me into some dry clothes and starts the laundry.

I find myself snapping at him over everything; he can barely eat dinner with me without being scolded for his chewing, or how he's sitting, or what the meal is. Despite all of this, Peeta doesn't spend longer hours at the bakery to be away from me, nor does he sleep on his own side of the bed. Whenever I can bear the extra heat, he cuddles with me, rubs my swelling stomach, and falls asleep at my side. I cannot understand his faithfulness, sometimes.

We receive letters from DeAnna, Annie, and Gale. All three are just as busy as we are. Most times, I only read half of Gale's letters. There is still some small part of me that can't bear to read about his wedding details. DeAnna's letters get taped to the fridge so we can read them over multiple times.

Life feels back to as normal as it can be. Even Haymitch becomes a little surlier. Except that I see less and less of Erin. At first, I worry, but Peeta reminds me that she's still in school; there are more important things in her life than a 30-something year old pregnant lady – even if those weren't his exact words. Peeta also says that Thom is more and more stressed. My husband lets him have a week off. I push all of this to the back of my mind.

"I have news," Peeta announces on a Wednesday evening as he comes through the front door after work.

"About what?" I ask from my spot on the couch, refusing to get up just yet. Peeta sits beside me, giving my cheek and stomach a kiss before continuing.

"Erin and Thom," he replies, sinking back into the couch. I sit forward, unsure if this news will be good or bad. "Apparently they take after us."

"She's pregnant?!" I interrupt quickly, my expression bewildered. Peeta's quick to correct me.

"No, no, I mean in personality. I guess Thom has been a little protective of Erin, and she doesn't like it," he shrugs.

"Well, how is he being protective? Who told you this?" I demand. Peeta strokes my cheek with the back of his hand to calm me down.

"Erin told me when she came to get bread this afternoon. She said he wouldn't let her hang out with her guy friends, and started a lecture every time a guy looked at her in school," Peeta explains.

"Why is he being like that? He's always so calm."

"Apparently he thinks she's been flirting with another guy, leading him on. Thom's right to worry." Obviously Peeta takes Thom's side in all this. Peeta has been there, done that.

"Excuse me, but he is not!" I argue. "Unless he has conclusive proof that she was flirting, he has no right to keep her away from her friends!" I'm about ready to stand up, on the very edge of the couch. Peeta tries pulling me back.

"Katniss, honey, take a deep breath. He's just trying to look out for her." I pull my arm out of Peeta's grasp and stand up to argue.

"How is that looking out for her?!" I shout. "That's the opposite! There is no reason for her not to do as she pleases! If she wants to actually flirt with other guys, it's not his place to stop her!" I know somewhere in the back of my mind, that it's just my hormones talking – or rather, shouting – and that I should really apologize for yelling so much.

"So, what if you were the one flirting and leading on other men? It wouldn't be my _right_ to stop you?" Peeta stands as well, clearly offended by my comment.

"That's different. We're married. But they can still choose to break up, they are free to be with whomever they want to be with." Tears form in the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Peeta sighs, speaks a little more calmly.

"You were free to be with who you wanted to be with, too," he explains. "Thom wants to be with Erin, so he's going to fight for that." I absolutely hate how calm he is about it now. For no good reason other than my lack of appropriate words, I push Peeta. Hard enough that he stumbles backwards. "Katniss!" he reprimands.

"Maybe he should find a less possessive way of fighting for her! Maybe he shouldn't even fight for her! He doesn't deserve her if he's going to keep her in a cage!" I continue screaming. I am reminded all too clearly of how it felt to be trapped by Peeta's first wedding proposal. Because there wasn't a choice for me at the time. It wouldn't have mattered if I loved Gale, because I wasn't getting him anyway. To me, in this irrational moment, Thom is acting like the Capitol; he's caging the people who are meant to be free. And this doesn't sit well with me.

"Katniss, please sit dowm. You're tired, okay?" Peeta reaches cautiously for me, deciding that arguing won't get him anywhere. I slap his hand away from me and go around him to get my shoes on. "Where areyou going?" He asks, still so cautious.

"To tell Erin that she's free to do what she wants," my fingers tremble with anger and frustration as I do up my coat. Finally, I am able to open the door and storm out.

God, I hate these hormonal outbursts.

Walking seems to help calm me down. By the time I'm approaching Erin's house, I want to run back to Peeta and apologize until my vocal chords stop working. How unfair am I to accuse Thom of being like the Captiol? He's nothing like them; he's good, and kind, and in love with a wonderful girl. I begin to realize how right Peeta is about them taking after us. Peeta was the exact same. And what did I do? I ran from him. There was no way I would let him keep me in a cage, no way I would marry him and live with him forever. My, how things have changed.

Yet, I don't feel trapped anymore – at all. I love Peeta with everything I have. I will always choose him. I sit on Erin's front porch, mentally kicking myself for my actions and thoughts. At the end of the day, I am _happy_ that Peeta fought for me. It's one of the reason I love him.

So, instead of going to Erin's door and explaining why I agree she should get to see anyone she wants to see, I begin the trek back across town to Thom's.

The house is just as big as it had been when the Undersees owned it. Just one of the perks of being the mayor, I guess. When I knock it's answered by a woman in an apron.

"Hi, I'd like a word with Thom, please. Uh, Tom Jr.," I correct myself just in time. The woman simply smiles and nods before retreating back into the house. I am left standing awkwardly on the front porch until Thom comes to the door.

"Katniss, hi." He's terrible at hiding his surprise. "What's up?"

"Peeta told me about you and Erin fighting," I admit, suddenly feeling incredibly gossipy for knowing.

"Oh, yeah. She's worrying me a little. But it's nothing big," he tries to convince me. Oh, how much he is like Peeta. If I hadn't known better, I would think Peeta had raised him.

"Are you really concerned she'll leave you? Or be unfaithful to you?" I ask, looking sympathetically at him. His shoulders slump.

"I don't want to lose her. I really do love her, Katniss. I'm not trying to keep her away from her friends, but…" Thom looks so heartbroken already. I pull him in for a hug, putting a hand comfortingly on the back of his head like I do with Peeta.

"Thom, I want you to fight for her. Do whatever you need to do to show that you love her," I say softly in his ear. When I let go, he's slightly shocked.

"Are you sure? I thought you'd take Erin's side." I smirk.

"I did at first. But if you love something, you do whatever you can to keep it," I take a step away. "Please fight for her."

I don't say goodbye, barely let Thom say goodbye, and then I'm down the street, headed home. I just want that to sink in for him.

When I get home, I feel really good. The baby flutters gently in my stomach, but it feels nice for once. Until I see the Peacekeeper car in front of the house. My heart nearly stops as I run to the door. My first thought is that Peeta's had an attack, or felt one coming on, and he's had to call for help. Then I start panicking that he'd had a stroke or heart attack. Can he have those at his age?

I burst into the house, screaming Peeta's name as I go. What I see is Peeta pacing the floor in the living room, my mother encouraging him to sit down, and two Peacekeepers with notepads. Peeta stops in his tracks when he sees me.

"Oh, Katniss, thank God!" He takes long strides to reach me, gathering me in an uncomfortably tight hug.

"What happened? Why are there Peacekeepers here?" I ask, my voice weak.

"I thought I'd lost you."

"I told you I went to… Erin's," I explain, realizing exactly where this all went wrong.

I am the worst wife in all of history.


	42. Acceptance

"Katniss, come sit down." It's my mother who gently tears me away from Peeta to bring me to the couch. The Peacekeepers look confused now, but nothing compares to the look of shock on my husband's face. He's still trying to comprehend my disappearance, and now I'm back.

"What happened that you needed to call the Peacekeepers?" I ask, holding my hand out so Peeta will sit with me. He does, nearly sitting on top of me, he's so close.

"Katniss, you left in a rage, completely irrational," Peeta begins. "And I'm sorry for the misjudgement, but I thought you would do something really rash. So I called Erin to keep an eye on you. She said she hadn't seen you. I panicked." Clearly. They don't send two Peacekeepers for nothing.

"I was only gone for an hour," I reason, too stubborn to just let this be my fault.

"Actually, you'd been gone for two before I called your mother. And then she said you might have gone to the woods. And Gale's not here to find you there-"

"Shh," I interrupt his explanation before he gets too hysterical. "Two hours? I can't have been over two hours. I only went to Erin's neighbourhood, and then straight to Thom's house." I look around, my gaze resting on the grandfather clock. Seriously? That's the time? With a look out at the darkening sky, I understand that I definitely don't walk as fast as I used to. And maybe I spent a lot longer than I'd thought on Erin's porch.

"And why did you go to Thom's?" My mother asks, because Peeta is currently taking deep breaths to calm his heart rate.

"Because I'm on his side." My fingers go to the hair at the back of Peeta's neck. "I get it now, why he did those things. And I agree with him," I explain softly. Peeta's torn between melting like putty at my touch, and being very seriously hurt and annoyed by me.

"You can't do that ever again, Katniss. Do you understand me?" He says it so rudely, that I immediately pull away, completely affronted.

"Yes, but… it was an accident. I didn't mean to be gone for so long," I retaliate, and am about to continue when my mother puts a hand on my shoulder.

"All you need to say is 'yes,' honey," she says, keeping me from saying things I'll regret. I relax back into Peeta's arms.

"Yes, I understand. I'm sorry," I repeat meekly. My mother nods her approval, then turns to dismiss the Peacekeepers. "Why did you think I went to the woods? That was never my intention," I ask Peeta who has begun to rub my stomach.

"Your mom and I tried to figure out where you'd go, and she mentioned a story she'd told you recently about your dad… we jumped to conclusions, and called the Peacekeepers," he explains. I remember the story of my dad freaking out and running to the seclusion of trees. Sure, I freaked out and ran away, but the woods has not been my first thought in months. Not since I have someone else to protect. "I'm really just happy you're safe."

There's something in me that wants to keep fighting about where I've been and what I might've done, but I hold back. Instead, I snuggle closer against Peeta's chest. His hand that isn't on my stomach begins stroking my hair. I feel so comfortable and tired.

"Were you serious that you agree with Thom?" Peeta interrupts the silence now that the Peacekeepers have left. I nod.

"I liked that you fought for me. So why shouldn't Thom fight for _his _girl?" I pause. "I guess he could be going about it a different way, though." Peeta never made me stop talking or hunting with Gale. Not that I would have let him anyway. Peeta chuckles quietly now.

"I'll tell him to take a small step back," he agrees, kissing the top of my head. "See? If you hadn't left in such a hurry, we could have come to this conclusion together, and there would've been no need to worry." He's teasing, I know, but it makes me feel so guilty.

"I said I was sorry," I mumble.

"Do either of you need anything?" My mother interrupts before I get too sassy. Without looking away from me, Peeta answers for us.

"I think we're okay now. Thanks, Mom," he gives me a kiss on the temple. My mother says goodbye and then goes home. I sit forward once the front door closes, and turn to look at my husband. "What?"

"Since when do you call her 'Mom'?" I ask bluntly.

"Well, since I realized we got married, and she's more like a mom to me than mine ever was. Do you not want me to?" He frowns, creating deep lines in his forehead.

"I… I guess you can. I just never though you would want to." And I know this is because, until fairly recently, my mother was not a part of our lives. Not to mention the fact that I will never call Peeta's mother 'mom' (not that I feel she really fit the title).

"Well, I do," Peeta smiles warmly, and I can tell how happy he is to have a mother in his life again. "Do you want to talk about anything else that happened today?" He asks gently. I pause, thinking about our eventful evening and my dull day at home by myself.

"Just that I'm sorry I keep exploding on you. I'm sorry I ran off like that. It won't happen again." Will I ever stop apologizing?

"I forgive you. I expect the outbursts, even worry if you've been too nice to me for too long." I don't even care if he's joking about that or not. I laugh. It feels good, especially when Peeta joins in. "So, we're okay?" He asks seriously. I nod, because we're excellent. "Good. I love you."

"I love you, too," I kiss my husband, savouring the feeling of his lips on mine. I can't remember the last time we were actually intimate. To make up for this, I pull away so I can straddle his waist. It's a small challenge with my stomach, but Peeta reaches the extra distance to kiss me again. His hands find their way easily under my shirt to run up and down my sides. I leave his mouth to kiss along his jaw and to his earlobe. I can tell he's trying to restrain himself, though.

"Peeta?"

"Hm, yeah?" He's got his eyes closed, letting me nibble at his skin.

"I want this. Don't hold back." In fact, I take his hands and put them on my breasts. I've missed his touch.

XX

Peeta and I fall asleep quickly that night after our time together. My pregnant body is not used to that at all. When I finally wake up, Peeta has left for work. He leaves a note on the bedside table:

Katniss,

I'll be home with cheese buns and a free foot massage for you. I'm going to talk to Thom again today. Call me if you're going out or need anything. I love you and our baby so much. See you tonight,

Peeta

P.S. Breakfast is on the table

That's my Peeta. I don't bother getting out of my pajamas just yet. Instead, I go straight down to the eggs benedict on my plate. There's also a bowl of fruit and yogurt in the fridge for me. While I eat, I notice a rhythmic fluttering in my stomach. Our daughter has the hiccups this morning. I can't help smiling as I imagine a tiny newborn, her little chest jumping, accompanied by the high-pitched 'hics.' Suddenly, I'm very excited to have Peeta's baby in my arms.

This wonderful feeling lasts until bedtime. When Peeta comes home, we talk rationally about Erin and Thom over cheese buns and foot rubs. Dinner is venison and potatoes with extra vegetables for me.

"This is a very nice contrast from yesterday," Peeta observes as he does the dishes after our meal. I'm at the table still, leafing through a baby name book without paying much attention to it.

"For every bad day, there is a good one just up the road," I repeat something my dad used to say to my mom.

"That's true. But did something happen today to make you so chipper?" Oh right. He gets nervous if I'm too nice.

"Nothing. Just one of those days where nothing goes wrong." In reality, I don't want to tell Peeta that I've finally accepted that we are going to have a little girl very soon.

I want this happiness and freedom all to myself for now.


	43. Seven Months

That week, we have our 7-month appointment at the doctor's. I get weighed, measured, prodded, and poked. They make me pee in a cup to test my sugar levels. Peeta doesn't slip out when we listen to the heartbeat or see the ultrasound. Our daughter is healthy.

"Have you two started talking about a birth plan, yet?" The doctor asks, as he wipes the gel off my stomach.

"Not yet," Peeta admits while I'm still thinking about the fact that people make birth plans. 

"You've still got plenty of time, theoretically," the doctor explains. "But usually, the start of the third trimester is the perfect time for parents to get everything organized; like setting up the nursery, packing a hospital bag, those types of things." I glance at Peeta. He's nodding seriously, taking that all in, and committing it to memory.

"When will her feet stop swelling?" He makes me snort by asking this. Poor Peeta has been giving me at least two foot rubs a day this week. I'm sure he's more than a little annoyed with me.

"Well, swollen feet and ankles generally last until after the baby's born. Try to keep them elevated when you're sitting. And walk around when you can to reduce the swelling," the doctor says. Peeta tries not to let his face fall. "Any other questions?" I shake my head, expecting Peeta to ask something else. He doesn't disappoint.

"Just about being… intimate while she's pregnant." I roll my eyes. _Yeah, ask that _after_ we've done it,_ I think sarcastically. The doctor smiles good-naturedly.

"Absolutely nothing wrong with it. It doesn't hurt the baby in any way. In fact, when it comes time, it can kick-start labour." The doctor finishes our appointment by scheduling next month's. It feels unreal to know it will be the 8th month of my pregnancy. I get nervous jitters as Peeta hands me my spring jacket. But they are also kind of excited jitters.

"So… birth plan," Peeta starts while we walk home. I don't answer, unsure how to proceed. "Do you want me to be there?"

"Yes! Of course!" I say, angry he would even have to ask. Then he starts laughing.

"I was kidding. As if you think I wouldn't want to be there." My response is a grumble and scowl. "Okay, well, do you want anyone else there?" His hand finds its way to my lower back where it perpetually aches.

"I told Haymitch he could be there. And I want my mom." Having never thought about it before, I'm surprised at how ready I have an answer.

"Would you consider having your mom deliver the baby?" He continues pressing me for details.

"I guess, yeah. I've seen her do it before. I trust her."

"And how about an epidural? Would you want that? Because I think you could do it without. You _should_ do it without an epidural."

"Whoa, whoa… epidural?" I probably should have paid more attention at our appointments.

"It's a needle to numb –"

"No. Absolutely not. I don't want needles of any kind," I say firmly as Peeta unlocks the door to the house. Immediately, I rush to the bathroom. The amount of times I pee in a day is obscene. When I emerge, Peeta's on the couch with a notebook and pen. "What is that?" I ask, going about the living room, straightening magazines, stacking coasters.

"Stop nesting and come see," Peeta reaches over and tugs on my arm. I sink onto the couch next to him. He's taken note of everything we've discussed on the way home.

"What else do we need to plan?" I lean my head on his shoulder.

"Well, you said you didn't want any needles…" he begins, hesitating to continue. "So, I'm wondering if a homebirth would be possible. We don't have to go to the hospital – "

"Yes," I blurt out. "I'd rather give birth here than at the hospital." Peeta exhales loudly, suddenly relieved. He hates needles even more than I do. He makes a note of this and then frowns.

"I don't really know what else to ask," he admits.

"I have a question," I say. Peeta looks at me expectantly. "When are you going to set up the nursery?" I smile cheekily at him.

"Soon," he agrees. "I promise." We'd already gotten most of the furniture and accessories, not to mention a large pile of clothes. Peeta just has to assemble it – under my direction, of course. The walls had been painted white since we moved in, but Peeta's been promising for weeks to paint some flowers on them. I can't wait to watch this happen.

With my head on his shoulder, Peeta wraps his arm around me, trailing his fingers gently up and down my arm. My eyelids become heavy. He's doing this on purpose so I'll sleep, and I eventually do.

XX

When I wake up, I don't have Peeta's shoulder anymore. Instead, he's laid my down on the couch with a pillow under my head, the heavy wool blanket draped over me. I hear Peeta in the kitchen, probably getting a snack. My stomach churns with hunger as well, but when I start to sit up, I realize it's not hunger. Although there is pain, it's more nauseating. I dash to the bathroom, my hand covering my mouth just in case I don't make it. Positioned in front of the toilet, I squeeze my eyes shut in pain.

Suddenly, I feel Peeta's hands on my back, massaging all over. He whispers comforting things in my ear while I try not to puke. After nothing comes up, I lean back into his chest. A dry cloth is dabbed at my forehead, which is now sweaty.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice filled with worry. I only shake my head in reply. "What's wrong? What hurts?" It takes me a moment to find my own voice.

"My stomach hurts. Like cramps or something," I sound pitiful. Peeta pushes me away from him so he can stand up. He grabs my arm tightly, pulling me to my feet. This makes it worse, and I whine.

"Show me exactly where it hurts." Worry is replaced with fear as I point to my lower abdomen. Peeta gulps loudly. "We need to go to the hospital," he says urgently, pulling me out of the bathroom to get my shoes and jacket on.

"It's just nausea, Peeta," I say as the pain returns, making me stop for a moment. I'm in such denial. The pain is worse than 'just nausea.'

"Nausea isn't the same as cramps. You're not supposed to get cramps when you're pregnant." My jacket is shoved at me. Panic has settled deep in my husband, whose voice shakes immensely. We don't walk to the hospital. Instead, Peeta leads me slowly next door to my mother's. His reasoning is that this is immediate medical attention, and we can call the ambulance from there.

"Hi," my mother is about to give us a welcome greeting, until she sees the looks on our faces. "What's wrong? Are you both okay?" She demands. Peeta explains the situation in short sentences while we're ushered in to the living room. They both make me lay down on the couch, Peeta putting pillows under my feet to stop the swelling.

"How bad is the pain, Katniss?" My mother asks, going about and gathering supplies.

"Like cramps. Enough to make me feel sick." A bucket is set beside the couch in case I need it.

"And is the pain constant? Or does it come and go?"

"It comes and goes, mostly."

"How long have you been feeling this? Was it gradual or immediate?" I hate answering all these questions.

"It happened a couple weeks ago, but it's immediate when it does – Peeta!" I reach frantically for my husband's hand and squeeze it as a wave of pain crashes over me. "It's getting worse," I start to cry. This is terrible; I'm terrified of what is happening to me, of what is happening to my baby. Peeta's right; I don't think I'm supposed to feel like this when I'm pregnant – unless I'm having the baby. But I can't think about that now. I can't put those images into my head, can't imagine my own body betraying my baby like that. There's no way I'm delivering a baby right now.

"Katniss, honey, _breathe_," my mother says. I realize only then that I'd been holding my breath. She gets a cold washcloth and wipes my face and neck. "Keep breathing. Just hold Peeta's hand. You'll be fine." I'm actually reassured a little, but Peeta is a different story. "Relax, honey. I won't let anything happen to your girls," she says, rubbing his shoulder. No wonder he calls her 'mom.'

When the pain starts to diminish, I complain that I have to pee again. Peeta helps me stand and walk there, keeping me steady. My mother makes him go into the bathroom with me, just in case. I'm too scared to be embarrassed. Besides, Peeta's seen me in worse shape than this.

On the other side of the door, my mother calls the hospital for additional help to come. I hear her say an ambulance might be helpful, but she doesn't think it's necessary. This is a relief to hear.

I don't pee as much as I thought I had to, but when I stand to pull up my pants, I see something that actually makes me gag.

"What's wrong?" Peeta holds my arms since I've started to shake, and I can't stop. I sob, being unable to think straight, trying to fold in on myself. I hug my belly even though it hurts to. "Katniss, what is it?" I'm scaring Peeta so much right now.

I look at Peeta through blurred vision, wishing he would stop looking at me and just look down so I didn't have to say it. But he doesn't. I have to speak. Somehow, I manage to get out the one word, the one syllable, that will send my family into a frenzy, that will eventually get me taken to the hospital in an ambulance.

"Blood."

**A/N Yes, I did have to leave it there. Yes, I wanted this to be longer, but no, it's the length it is. Review! Also, I have no idea what month she's supposed to be on, so I'm making it seven. **


	44. I'm Still So Terrified

Peeta sees it, too. For a moment, I think he's actually going to throw up, but then he stands and calls urgently for my mother. I can't think straight. Memories of pregnant women coming to my mother for help swirl through my head. I may not have the best attention span at the doctor's office, but even I know that blood and pain are never good.

My mother arrives in the bathroom, drying her hands on a towel. I'm in too much shock to be embarrassed, and am barely aware of my mother checking my cervix. It pinches, but it's nothing compared to the pain still radiating from my mid-section.

"She's not dilated. I've called for a paramedic, but she'll have to go to the hospital," she explains for Peeta's sake, as I'm incapable of anything. Not even tears come to me.

"Katniss? Love? Can you stand?" Peeta does his best to keep his voice from shaking. His hand goes to the cup my cheek. I come up with my answer long before my mouth can form the words.

"I need help," I mutter weakly. Instantly, Peeta's hands are under my armpits, helping me to my feet. I clamp my legs together, hoping that this keeps everything inside. Somehow, my mother gets my pants up for me, and she and Peeta drag me outside to wait for the ambulance. Beside me, Peeta's leg bounces up and down. How is he keeping himself together? I guess I must appear fairly calm on the outside as well, even though I feel like I've already fallen apart on the inside. On my other side, my mother keeps an eye on the road. She rubs between my shoulder blades as if that will stop the pain or fear.

The ambulance probably gets there in record time, but it feels like years before I see it pull up to our house. My mother stands to meet the paramedic, inform him of how the situation has changed. Faithfully, Peeta stays at my side, holding my hand tightly. It's almost a little too tight, but there is no way I'm asking him to let go. A team of two paramedics come up the porch with a stretcher for me. At first, I want to protest that I can walk down a couple steps and into the back of the ambulance on my own, but when I stand with Peeta's help, I'm dizzy. The world spins around me until I'm staring up at the sky, the paramedics carrying me down the porch steps.

There's a prick in my arm as they buckle the stretcher down to the floor of the ambulance. I look to see they've inserted an I.V. into the crook of my elbow. Peeta stays at my side, despite being asked to have a seat. I'm barely holding his hand now, though he keeps a tight grip on me. I convince myself that I can smell the blood, which makes me nauseous. My stomach churns, but I know I won't throw up. The beeping of machines starts up before we even begin driving, but when the ambulance does begin to pull out of the driveway, they start examining my stomach.

"There's a heartbeat." One of the paramedics announces. This doesn't register with me until Peeta nearly collapses with relief.

"What?" Is my intelligent response. The paramedic – the one with shorter hair – nods and continues to feel my stomach.

"And the baby is still moving. Do you feel it?" He asks. I start to shake my head - of course I can't feel it; I would have said something before now if I could – but then my stomach churns again and I realize it's not my stomach, really. It's my baby doing somersaults.

"Yes. Right here," I put a hand where I feel the most twisting. "So, she's okay? Why am I bleeding?" The relief I had felt momentarily is replaced by the fear from before. Nothing is really fine if there's blood.

"We can't be sure, yet. We'll do a closer examination when we get to the hospital." The paramedics do their best to keep up a conversation with me, trying to make sure I'm still conscious and feeling okay. I try to focus on answering their questions and making it to the hospital, but there's a small voice in my head that keeps saying 'if they don't know what's wrong, it must be serious.' Not even Peeta's light kisses on my cheek can keep that voice quiet.

XX

Peeta and my mother both have to wait in the reception area of the hospital while I'm taken to an examination room. The poking and prodding continue. More needles prick my arms and even my stomach. I hate to think what they're doing down there; I refuse to look anywhere but at the white ceiling above me, even when they do an ultrasound and I have the chance to see my baby again.

Once they are done making sure everything is as it should be, they wheel the bed I'm in to another room. This one has actual windows, and a sink, and a couch along one of the walls for visitors. I'm still hooked up to the I.V., so I don't get out of bed. A nurse instructs me to get some rest. It will be some time before the doctor returns with a diagnosis. It's hard, because Peeta isn't there, but I do eventually fall into a light sleep.

When I wake up, I forget where I am and what has happened. I think this is because while I slept, Peeta and my mother were allowed to come in, and Peeta crawled into the bed with me to cuddle. So, with my eyes still closed, I can feel his breath on my neck and his heat. All too soon, it comes crashing back to me.

"Katniss, are you awake?" He whispers. I stir, blindly reaching for his hand. He takes it and kisses the back of it. "How do you feel?"

"Tired. But less crampy," I say groggily. Peeta sweeps hair from my forehead and kisses it.

"Do you want some water, Katniss?" My mother's standing by the sink, awaiting my consent. I nod, and she fills a cup for me. "They said the doctor would be coming very shortly to tell us what happened." She explains. Peeta and I take turns sipping the water while we wait – I don't know if I can stomach all of it.

"How are you feeling, Mrs. Mellark?" Our doctor, a gentle and balding man of about 50, comes in with his clipboard and a nurse.

"Fine," I squeak. Peeta caresses my cheek to calm me down.

"Pretty shaken up, huh?" He asks. I can barely nod. I just want him to spit out what is wrong with me. "Well, you shouldn't have to worry too much, okay? This isn't life-threatening for you or the baby. I want to really stress that." There's a loud exhalation on my right from Peeta. "You suffer from placenta accreta, which is basically when the placenta attaches itself to the myometrium."

"Sorry, it attaches to what?" I ask, sticking to one question although millions are going through my mind.

"Myometrium. It's the middle layer of the uterine wall. Sometimes the placenta will detach itself before birth. And if it doesn't, it will have to be removed. At this point, we can't be sure if it will detach on its own or not, so we suggest you do come in to the hospital for a scheduled C-section to reduce hemorrhaging." The doctor continues. Peeta shakes his head quickly.

"We want a natural birth at home. Is there anything she can do to help it detach? Is there any way we can do this at home if it doesn't?" He sounds so worried about it, and he probably is. C-sections involve many more needles than even an epidural. In response to this, the doctor sighs.

"There's not much you can do at this point, except for hope it does. The risks are immense to do a natural birth if the placenta is still attached, especially one at home. You'll have to be on bed-rest, Katniss. We can do monthly check-ups at your home to make things easier for you. There's never any guarantee that the placenta will or will not remain attached to the myometrium."

"Will she be okay, though? What's the blood from?" I ask before Peeta can continue to argue his case. My voice shakes enough that he goes back to stroking my hair.

"Your baby feels absolutely nothing. The only one this will affect is you if the right precautions aren't taken. The blood is from the wall of your uterus where the placenta touches it. Until the birth, you might still get the occasional spotting, and experience false contractions." The doctor let's all this sink in for us, waiting patiently for any more questions.

"What if we had a doctor at our house for the birth? Would that be better?" Peeta's back on the birth plan argument. My mother answers this time.

"Peeta, honey, I'm not trained to deal with things like this. Not like the doctors here are. The best I could do is stitch Katniss up and hope she stops bleeding. They have much better tools and technology here than I do," she says gently. "She'll be okay in a hospital. She's doing great right now." My mother shoots me a reassuring smile, to which I find the muscles to return.

"What do you mean by bed-rest?" I ask, getting Peeta off the topic of where I'm giving birth in two months.

"For now, you'll have to be on complete bed-rest, as that will keep your blood pressure down and hopefully encourage the placenta to detach. If, on the next appointment, we find everything fine, you'll be put on semi bed-rest, meaning you can do things around the house. It's not implanted very deep, so I wouldn't be surprised if you do give birth naturally," he smiles warmly at us and writes down something on his clipboard. "We're going to keep you here until the bleeding stops, but the medicine in your I.V. should slow it down enough that you can leave tomorrow morning. Do you feel nauseous or dizzy at all?"

"Not really," I admit. Satisfied with this answer, the doctor and nurse depart. Peeta leans back on the bed and pulls my head onto his shoulder. He lets out a shaky breath; this makes me start crying. What else will my body do to my baby? What have I done to Peeta's nervous system? He's beside me, a hand on my stomach and the other holding me tight. Although I'm not looking at him, I know he's crying, too.

I fall asleep with him, slipping into nightmares that paralyze me. When I wake up, I remember that these nightmares are now my reality.

I'm still so terrified.

**A/N This is rife with inaccuracies, but just go with it. Let it happen. **


	45. Three Messages

Sure enough, the bleeding has stopped by the next morning. When Peeta helps me to the bathroom in the early hours of the day, I cry at the lack of red. Just outside of the bathroom door, Peeta's voice interrupts my relief.

"Katniss? Is everything okay?"

"Y-yes," I stammer, having difficulty finding my voice. When I open the door, I find his face screwed up in worry; the lines in his forehead only deepen at the sight of my tear-filled eyes. "I'm not bleeding anymore," I explain to prevent him from having a stroke. Instantly, his shoulders relax and his arms wrap around me.

"I love you," he whispers in my ear. I nod and choke out an answer. My emotions are so heightened recently; even though I know he loves me and he has for a very, very long time, this still feels amazing to hear. I'm acting like he hasn't said it to me in ten years.

"Sorry," I murmur.

"It's okay. You can cry if you want to." Peeta helps me back to bed when I've calmed down enough, then he calls for a nurse to tell them the good news and maybe start getting me ready to go home. He's definitely nervous about taking me home. There's a lot at stake if we aren't careful – if _I'm_ not careful – and I know Peeta's been thinking non-stop about every repercussion.

He fills out the release forms so we can go home. My mother went home for the night once she was sure I would be okay. While Peeta works away, I just stare at my stomach, rubbing slow circles over it. My daughter kicks feebly against my hand. It's only slightly comforting, because the feeling still makes me feel weird. Once Peeta is done, a nurse comes back to take out my I.V. and check my blood pressure one more time before I can get dressed.

"Ready?" Peeta can finally ask as I tie my hair up.

"As I'll ever be," I answer, taking his hand. Together, we go home, where my mother is waiting with lunch for us, and where the answering machine lights up with three unheard messages. All of lunch, Peeta has his arm around my shoulders. At first, it's very comforting, but by the time we're halfway done eating, it's getting annoying. I'm so hot and fidgety that I shake him off.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"Its fine," he says, turning back to his soup and grilled cheese. Surprisingly, I eat everything that was put in front of me. I thought I had been too nervous to eat much of anything. What's even more surprising is the fact that I want to just lay in bed and sleep. I'm not exhausted, but nothing else seems more appealing.

"Are you finished?" Peeta asks. I nod, and he takes my bowl and plate to the sink to be washed. "Do you want to go up to bed, or just to the couch?" The rest of the soup gets put into a container to put in the fridge for later. I shrug.

"Bed?"

"No problem." When Peeta is done cleaning up from lunch, he comes to my chair to help me up. I almost push him away, claim I can do it on my own, but then I think of our daughter, how I can prevent her from being safe just by doing too much activity on my own. So instead, I take his hand and let him take me slowly upstairs.

"Ow, wait," I make him stop halfway up the staircase. There's pain in my left side. Patiently, Peeta waits for me to be okay. Several kisses are planted on my head while I rub where it hurts and pray there won't be any blood.

"Tell me when you're okay," Peeta says. I nod and lift my leg to keep going. By the time I'm in our bed, snuggled up under the covers, the pain has receded. "Do you want anything? Tea? A book?"

"Maybe just some tea," I smile. "Thank you."

"No worries, honey." He gives me a kiss on the forehead and then goes down to make tea. I lay in bed quietly, looking around. This is going to get very boring, very quickly. Being on complete bed rest means I'm limited to my bed, and possibly the couch if Peeta isn't too cautious with me. Knowing him, though, I think I'm going to be very familiar with the walls of my bedroom.

My eyes are already beginning to droop when Peeta gets back with a cup of tea. He sets it on the night stand beside me and then gets into bed with me.

"I love you," he says softly. More kisses are placed along my cheek and up to my temple as Peeta cuddles with me.

"I love you, too, Peeta," I take a sip of my tea, but it's too hot and I burn my tongue. "Oh, did you check the messages on the machine?" I had meant to do it before coming up after lunch. Peeta nods, but is subdued. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you being so quiet?" I pull away from his arms a little so he'll answer me. There's a long moment of silence while he decides how to tell me what's on his mind. I don't mind waiting for this. He always ends up telling me.

"There was a message from Gale, because your mom called him about what happened. And he says he hopes you're okay and that he's thinking of you." This isn't what's on his mind, though. "Then there was one from Haymitch inviting himself over for dinner tonight. So, that's going to be interesting," he chuckles. Just get to the point, I think. Peeta sighs and rubs my arm.

"You can tell me," I try to coax.

"Erin and Thom broke up," he says. I frown. That's of course very upsetting, but did he really need to be so dramatic about it? They're young. They could get back together for all we know. They have time. "He gave her a black eye."

Excuse me? I sit up completely, my mouth falling open into a perfect circle, eyes wide. I don't believe it. Peeta misheard the message obviously.

"Her Aunt called to tell you, because Erin was too distraught to speak on the phone. She said that they talked about how Thom was being too protective of her. Apparently he got so angry that he just," Peeta imitates punching something. "Punched her in the face." He doesn't look at me when he talks, stares straight ahead.

"What do we do?" I whimper.

"There's nothing we can do about it now. It's happened. But… " Peeta rubs his forehead. "Sorry," he says thickly.

"It's okay, Peeta. You can talk to me," I'm holding it together surprisingly well. Violence like that makes me want to throw up.

"I don't think I can have him work at the bakery if he's abusing his girlfriend," he explains. Honestly, I don't know how he could do it either. On the other hand, I doubt that Thom really meant it, and that he's punching himself right now for punching her. And he really is a good worker; Peeta relies on him a lot.

We sit in silence for a long time. My tea is cold by the time I remember it was still sitting on the night stand. Eventually, Peeta gets up slowly. He looks so much older after the past 24 hours.

"I'm going to go paint. I'll be back with your dinner," he says. This time, I get an extra long kiss before he leaves. "Everything's okay."

He says it with no conviction.


	46. Mistakes

When Peeta does bring my dinner, he doesn't say much. I try to have a conversation with him, try to talk about the baby with him. But he interrupts me saying he's going to go clean up the kitchen. I'd figured he would eat dinner with me in our room, maybe keep me some company. I guess he's trying to decide what to do about Thom on his own.

I don't like it.

Usually, Peeta is my voice of reason. He's excellent at solving problems… when he's already heard the unrealistic idea of mine. Right now, he's probably stuck on one thing and has no idea how to think outside the box, think of other potential solutions to this problem. It worries me to think that he's probably going to fire Thom. He can't tolerate people that purposefully abuse their loved ones that way. And now I can't even get to him and explain that he should give Thom a second chance. Everyone does things they don't mean when they're upset. I run away when I'm upset, Peeta paints or bakes, Gale goes hunting, Haymitch drinks. Thom, apparently, lashes out.

Against my better judgement – because Peeta's not here to snap me out of things – I push back the covers on the bed and swing my legs over the side. Slowly, I step onto the floor and stand up straight. I don't feel any sort of cramping.

"Peeta?" I try to call out. When there is no reply, I venture carefully to the door of our bedroom. "Peeta?" I say a little louder. Still nothing. I've made it to the staircase and am just about to take the first step down when it hits me. The ring of pain circles across my abdomen. I wince and almost double over, slipping on the edge of the step and hitting the next one loudly.

"Katniss?" Peeta's voice carries better than mine did. I breathe through my mouth as best as I can, but I can't speak yet. There's no need to, though, as Peeta appears at the bottom of the stairs. "Jesus, Katniss!" He rushes up to help me sit down, one of his big hands going to my stomach.

"Sorry," I mutter, still taking calming breaths. Peeta brushes my hair back.

"It's okay. Just relax now. What did you need?" He kisses my cheek so I know he's not mad at me, just a little scared.

"You," I reply. "I'm lonely and bored. And you need to talk about some stuff," I put my hand on his knee, squeezing it gently while the pain diminishes.

"I don't need to talk about anything," he tries to argue.

"Yes, you do. About Thom," I take a sharp intake of air when there's another pang in my uterus. "Because you can't just fire him." Peeta begins rubbing my back, but he doesn't say anything. "You can't," I repeat.

"Why not? What else am I supposed to do?" He snaps a little. I have to ignore this, though. It's been a stressful couple days; he has a lot of other things on his mind. I'm probably snapping at him without realizing it, too.

"I don't know yet. But that's why we'll talk about it. My name is Mellark, too. I get a say in what goes on in that bakery," I reason, pointing my finger at him. The ghost of a smile plays across his lips.

"Why don't I get you back to bed first?" He says, taking the hand on his knee and beginning to get me up again. "Slow and steady," he warns. We go slowly alright. It's a two minute adventure back to bed when it should only take 10 seconds.

"Okay," I say when he's tucked me in, patting the spot beside me. "Sit."

"I'm not a dog," he says, smiling.

"I know. If you were, you wouldn't have left me up here alone. You would've cuddled," I complain, but I'm not entirely serious. Peeta cuddles with me this time.

"Okay, love. Tell me what to do," he rests his chin on my shoulder and kisses my jaw.

"Well, first of all, you could actually talk to Thom about it. Maybe give him a warning that if he does anything like that again, you will fire him. But you should also just talk to him as a friend, find out what he was thinking and help him through this. He's probably not having such a great time, either," I say while Peeta looks at me with rapt attention.

"That sounds like a lovely plan," he agrees. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Peeta," I lift his chin to kiss him on the lips. As the pressure of his lips on mine deepens, I feel a sharp jab in my abdomen. It's not painful, just a sudden kick. Gently, I pull away, leaving Peeta's lips still puckered. "Feel," I order, placing his hand where the baby is moving.

The look of complete awe and joy on Peeta's face makes me want to cry. He's so damn excited about this. Shifting his position, Peeta lays horizontal on the bed so he can be at eye level with my bump.

"Hi, baby," he coos softly. Almost as if she hears him, our baby kicks me harder than last time. "Easy in there, don't give Mommy a hard time." My stomach is peppered with kisses. "I love you, baby. I love you so much." I run a hand through Peeta's blonde curls, hoping I don't see them on my baby girl's head. Too much like Prim, I think.

"She loves you, too, Daddy," I tell him. In response to this, Peeta wraps his arms around my waist and hugs my stomach. Without being aware of it, I start to cry. Peeta's hug stops when he hears me sniff loudly.

"What's wrong?" He asks gently, sitting up. I wipe at the onslaught of tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Nothing," I try. But Peeta's not buying it. He gives me a pleading look, so I start talking. "I'm… I'm excited about this," I finally admit to him, rubbing my stomach. "But I still have so many fears. And having to be on bed rest isn't helping with any of them."

Peeta's lips dry my cheeks and under my eyes, but still more tears come. In fact, his kisses make me cry harder, because I know he's going to still love me, no matter what happens. He proves that every day.

"Hey, listen to me," he says. "Listen. I love you, and I love our baby so much already. This placenta accreta isn't your fault, and it's not fatal to either of you. I promise to make sure you're healthy and comfortable until you're off bed rest. In fact, I won't ever stop making sure you're healthy and comfortable. Okay? There is nothing to be afraid of."

I nod and lean in for a kiss that is so tender it would make me cry if I wasn't already (although it is quite wet with my crying). Peeta cups my cheek in his hand and strokes under my eye with his thumb.

"I'm okay," I say, telling myself to stop the waterworks. He nods and tucks me in more.

"Let's get some rest," he gets up to put pajamas on – which is just a pair of sweatpants – and then joins me in bed, pulling me close to him. "I'll talk to Thom tomorrow, and then start the nursery after work."

"Thank you," I say weakly; the crying has tired me out. That night, I fall asleep to the feeling of Peeta's lips on my temple, and my daughter's soft fluttering inside me.

xxx

I must be very tired, because when I wake up, Peeta's already gone. My breakfast is on the nightstand; dry granola and a banana. I'm lonely and stranded, but my biggest problem this morning is getting to the bathroom. I don't want there to be any cramping while Peeta's at work. On the other hand, I'm about to wet myself once again, and I can't make it to the laundry room like this.

Even to the en suite, it's a long journey filled with many pauses and lots of deep breathing. Finally, I get to pee. The rest of my morning is spent reading the selection of books and magazines Peeta set out for me. I'm not meant to be kept in bed like this.

At lunch, my mother comes to bring up sandwiches and tea for me. She offers to sit with me and talk, or do my hair if I'd like, but I decline. For some dumb reason, I decline. Once she leaves, it's just my baby and me. And unfortunately, she can't talk to me yet. I braid my hair, I make pyramids out of the books, I tear out one blank page from the front of a book and try to make an origami crane, and I stare at the ceiling until my eyes dry out.

"Katniss, I'm home!" Peeta' voice is like heaven to my ears. He takes the stairs two at a time to get to me, and appears in the bedroom doorway with two bakery packages for me. "Brought you some comfort food," he says, smiling. The packages are set on my outstretched legs; the smell of cheese buns and blueberry muffins hits me.

"Thank you, honey," I smile and reach to him for a kiss. "Did you talk to Thom?" I ask before his lips meet mine.

"Yes," he answers, closing the gap. "Do you want to hear what happened?" Peeta fluffs up my pillows for me and then gets into bed beside me.

"Please!" I turn my body to face him. First, he just chuckles and opens the package of muffins to help himself. I smack his hand. "Those are mine!"

"I made them!" He argues, teasing me. "Let me have just one or I won't gossip with you."

"It's not gossip," I mutter, but I let him take a muffin before I take one as well. "Okay. Start."

"Well, he's not getting fired." Already, I begin to relax. "But him and Erin are over," Peeta sighs before continuing. "He said that he honestly didn't mean to punch her, that he was just so angry. He wanted to know if I'd ever been so angry that I'd hit you." There's a very long pause. There have been many times in our relationship where Peeta has physically hurt me. But we both know that it wasn't really Peeta that did it; it was the Capitol's version of my sweet husband.

"What did you tell him?" I start rubbing his shoulder.

"I told him that I had. I said 'I get it, you lost your temper.' But it's not really a good excuse to punch someone. He will never stop paying for that. Erin's devastated. He said she didn't want to break up with him, but she knew she had to," he shakes his head in disbelief at all this.

"So what did you tell him to do the next time he's starting to lose his temper?" I prod.

"To walk away," his voice shakes a little as he continues. "Because even though it's going to seem like the worst thing you could do – it's going to seem so inconsiderate and rude – sometimes you just have to. Sometimes you both need a second to breathe, to remember why you're fighting, and what you're trying to get to. You have to remember the important stuff, like that you love that person very much." I know he's thinking of every time he's had to walk away from me in the past.

I do remember very clearly that the first few times he did, I was pissed. I couldn't help think he had no right to just leave me hanging like that, not while we were having problems. I also remember going to him the next day and seeing the wrecked house where he'd had an attack. That could have been taken out on me.

"And he agreed with this?" I ask, letting Peeta take a break from talking. He nods and takes a small bite of his muffin. "I feel really guilty," I admit.

"What? Why?"

"I told him to fight for her." Peeta shakes his head.

"Katniss, that's good advice. But he wasn't fighting for her. He was fighting _with_ her," he explains. "Don't blame yourself for his mistake." Gently, he pushes my head onto his shoulder. "It was his mistake," he repeats.

Somehow, Peeta lulls me into a deep enough sleep that he can lay me down on my own pillows, put the food away, and make a real dinner for us without waking me up. I dream about Prim in front of Snow's mansion, being blasted by the bombs. I shouldn't have let her be a part of the war. I wish I could say I wish I hadn't started a rebellion, hadn't tried to eat those berries with Peeta. But that's what has given me this life, this opportunity to have a child. So, I can only wish that I had taken better care of my sister. I can only wish that I had told her to stay in Thirteen.

It's my biggest mistake.


	47. Bed-Rest

The next month is torture for me. As often as Peeta can, he gets me downstairs to sit on the couch, watch TV, and talk with him while he makes dinner. But he still works all week, long hours, and some days I'm stuck in our bed until he gets home. I try to push the limits of my body and Peeta's patience. Every so often, I'll get myself up to go to the bathroom or to get a glass of water. One day while Peeta's at the Bakery, I get up and make myself soup. There's no way I can be sitting or lying in one spot for that long. It would drive anyone crazy.

"How are you feeling?" Peeta asks one night over pesto pasta. "Any cramping this week? Are you getting enough sleep?" I try not to clench my jaw when I answer.

"I'm fine, Peeta. In fact, I think I could be getting up more. You know, walking around the house, doing some light cleaning," I say as nonchalantly as I can. Peeta doesn't fall for it.

"No."

"Why not? The doctor said that if things were going okay, I could be put on semi bed-rest," I challenge. Peeta just frowns at me.

"He said that after our next appointment, if the placenta wasn't attached to the wall anymore, you could be put on semi bed-rest. We haven't been to our next appointment, so you're still on full bed-rest. Sorry." He's genuinely apologizing, too. That makes it so much worse, so much harder to lie to him.

"Can't I just try to walk? You'll see that it doesn't hurt to go around the living room," I try convincing him. He puts his bowl of pasta down on the coffee table and turns to face me completely.

"Katniss, it's not about whether it hurts_ you_, it's whether it hurts the baby. Just because you're not cramping up doesn't mean the placenta isn't being further embedded. Okay?" He says in his most nervous voice. "Okay?" He repeats when I don't say anything.

"No. Not okay," I finally say. The look of complete surprise on Peeta's face would probably make me laugh if I weren't being so stubborn. "If I want to walk to the fridge for some water, I should get to. I shouldn't have to wait for you to come home, or for my mother to answer her phone and come over here!" I argue.

"Katniss, it's not about you. Our baby is dependent on you to look after her. And that means no walking until the doctor says it's okay."

"Well, maybe I don't want someone to be dependent on me!" I nearly shout. This is completely unfair, not to mention untrue. But honestly, he has no idea what it's like to be kept in this glass case. He has no idea what it's like to be carrying a human being inside of him. It's not easy. Peeta tries to reply calmly; he does know that I'm just hormonal and definitely stir-crazy.

"Take a deep breath and say that to me again." I start tearing up, but I take that deep breath and repeat exactly what I just said to him. If I weren't so upset and tired and trapped right now, I would probably notice the fact that his heart is breaking. Having a family is the one thing Peeta wants most. He wants that normal 2.5 family with the white picket fence. When he married me, he knew he was giving that up. Almost 8 months ago, he realized he was on his way to getting it. I'm taking it all away from him right now.

"I'm going to do what's best for me. And right now, that means being able to walk when I want," I add, and I swear Peeta looks like he wants to hit me.

"If that's how you feel, then fine. I guess I can't change your mind," he gets up, leaving his food on the coffee table. He heads upstairs, slowly dragging his feet across the floor. I can hear him in our room getting ready for bed. I put away our food, as I've lost my appetite now, too, and just leave the dishes soaking in the sink for tomorrow. Peeta can deal with them.

Despite being worried nearly to tears, Peeta doesn't help me up the stairs. I suspect he doesn't even hear me on them because when I go to our room, he's in the bathroom.

"Told you I was fine," I say through the door with some bite to my words. Peeta comes out in his pajama pants, rubbing at his eye.

"Proved me wrong, then, didn't you?" He mutters, brushing past me to get into bed. "Love you."

"Love you, too," I reply, and head into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

This happens a week before my next appointment. Peeta allows me to come downstairs on my own and make my own lunch, but he puts his foot down about me doing chores. He also likes for me to put my feet up when he's home. At least he's not witnessing the damage I'm doing to our baby, he says. Everything in me feels fine. There's no cramping, no bleeding, and I feel less moody.

At our appointment, Peeta keeps his mouth shut about the fact that I'm disobeying the doctor's orders. I pass all the tests with flying colours, except for the placenta accreta.

"It's still implanted," the doctor says, looking at the screen of my ultra sound. "However, the attachment does appear to be thinned out, so I think if you ease into things, you should be fine. Just take things easy and slow, there's no need to rush anything. If you're starting to get cramps again, that's a sign to continue the strict bed-rest," he explains. "Otherwise, you and the baby are healthy as can be."

Peeta thanks the doctor and helps me sit up. He's silent as we get our shoes on and head out to the guy from the car service so I don't have to walk home. In fact, he's silent all the way home until I'm seated on the couch with pillows all around me.

"You'll tell me if you get cramps, right? Or feel anything wrong?" He's not angry or accusatory when he says this. To me, he sounds terrified that I'll be dishonest with him. My shoulders sag and I feel terrible that this is even a concern for him.

"Of course I will, honey," I reach my hand out to him so he'll sit with me. I'm relieved when he takes it and lets me snuggle against his chest. "I'm sorry if you're not thrilled that I've been walking around lately. But I won't keep doing it if there's something wrong."

"Why'd you have to do it in the first place? What was so hard about lying in bed and protecting your baby?"

"Everything felt fine to me. And being stranded in my bed was terrible. Can you imagine being cooped up there for all hours of the day? Especially when I had feeling that the baby was okay. A mother just knows these things," I argue.

"You can't justify this by saying you 'just knew,'" he says, but the way he's rubbing my arm reminds me that he's not angry. "I know there's nothing I can do about it now, it's in the past. But I hope you understand how scared that made me."

"I understand. I'm just stubborn," I reply, and Peeta chuckles quietly.

"You sure are."

We sit together for a long time, just talking about our lives; the bakery, my mother, how Peeta's dream of a homebirth is coming true so far. It isn't until my stomach growls that Peeta helps me to the kitchen to get dinner ready. It feels so freeing to help out in the kitchen with Peeta when he's not rolling his eyes or clenching his jaw. As I'm finishing tossing the salad, he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my stomach.

"I love you, Katniss," he murmurs, rubbing my stomach and kissing my cheek. I turn my head to kiss his lips.

"I love you, too. And your daughter loves you," I add as the baby hiccups.

"_Our_ daughter," he corrects.

"Yes. All ours."


	48. The Baby

As the date of our daughter's arrival draws nearer, I begin to get more and more afraid. Nightmares plague my nights, visions of a dead baby make my skin crawl. Most mornings, I'm begging Peeta to stay. He doesn't, though; can't because of work.

At two weeks to go, we get the all-clear from our doctor for a home birth. Peeta almost cries in the examining room, immediately calling my mother to let her know. She is a God-send, that woman, coming over daily to rub my feet, make lunch, do laundry, or just keeps me company. I swear her and Peeta are in competition to be the most excited and to dote on me most (I'm not complaining).

Everything is going according to plan, despite my nerves. Haymitch hasn't been near alcohol or coffee in a few days. Erin comes over after school some days to do homework or just to chat. For a week, we avoid the topic of Thom, but then the conversation becomes inevitable. She cries as she tells me her side of the story. When she tries to justify herself to me, I stop her. There's no need to explain why she did the right thing.

On Friday, Peeta leaves for work while I'm still in bed. He brings breakfast to me and kisses me twice before leaving – once on the lips and once on the stomach. I smile sleepily and by the time I hear the door shut behind him, I feel fully awake. Breakfast, again, is delicious.

Since I feel so heavy, I only get up to go sit on the couch downstairs. I'm just starting in on my second crossword puzzle when I feel an uncomfortable twinge in my stomach. At first, I think it's just a kick, but it lasts much longer, and isn't localized to one spot; it's all across my middle. My second thought is that I'm cramping and I've lost my baby. I jolt into action, grabbing the phone on the way to the bathroom. Luckily, I don't find any blood, but my phone conversation is becoming its own problem.

"Hi, you've reached Mellark Bakery. Unfortunately, no one is able to take your call at the moment. Please leave a message and we'll get back to you as soon as we can." My husband's voice on the voice mail message pisses me off. The machine beeps just as a stronger twinge moves across my stomach.

"Owww," I start my message. "Dammit Peeta! Answer your stupid phone. I need you to come home right now. I think I'm having contractions, and I need you." I forget to say goodbye before I hang up and call my mother. While the phone rings, I get a heating pad and sit back on the couch.

"Hello?"

"Mom, it's Katniss. I need you to come over right away. I think I'm having contractions, but I'm not sure," I explain, wincing.

"Right away. Hold tight." She doesn't say goodbye before she's gone either. The pain isn't too bad now, but I know it's only going to get worse. In anticipation of the discomfort, I change into old sweatpants and a t-shirt of Peeta's. When I get back downstairs, my mother is there in the kitchen making tea.

"How are you feeling?" She helps me sit on the couch.

"I'm okay for now. It's just a bit of pain when the contractions come. Otherwise I'm completely fine," I explain.

"Here, you should time each contraction," she says, handing me pencil and paper to keep track. "Is Peeta on his way?"

"No. I couldn't get ahold of him at the bakery, so I just left a message," I close my eyes tight and grip the edge of the couch. Immediately, my mother is there beside me, telling me to keep breathing, to focus on getting through the pain.

"Just imagine how much closer you are to having your baby every time it hurts," she instructs. I can't tell her how much that scares me though. I wish Peeta was here. He understands how I'm feeling emotionally right now. Just my luck, though, that we still can't reach him. My mother offers to walk to the bakery to get him, but the pain is increasing quickly, and I don't want to be alone. In the end, I agree to let her call Haymitch so he can go to the bakery for the father of my baby. In the meantime, I'm feeling so uncomfortable. When the contractions come, I don't even have the energy to be afraid; I can only think of how much it already hurts.

After a couple hours, my mother phones for another Healer to come and assist – as we've all agreed – and then she tells me that I need to take off my sweatpants and underwear so she can see how progressed I am. This makes me extremely self-conscious. Peeta and my doctor are the only people to see me down there. But this is my mother, I reason. She's seen all of me, too, no matter how modest I was growing up. She helps me undress my lower half, then pulls on a rubber glove.

"Okay, Katniss, you're not quite at four centimetres," she says, throwing the glove away. My body relaxes and then slumps at the news. Only four? I'll never make it to ten. Already the contractions are coming just minutes apart.

"Where the _fuck_ is Peeta? Or even Haymitch?" I whine. A knock comes at the door and I sit up straight. My mother answers, but it's just the other Healer, Elisha. I don't bother trying to cover myself up. She'll be having a peek there soon, anyway.

"I'm sure Haymitch and Peeta are on their way now. Why don't you try and rest? Save some energy for later," she suggests, helping me lay down. I do close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come so easily. Eventually, I fall into a light sleep, waking up occasionally when the contractions hit suddenly. Every time I open my eyes, it's my mother who smooths back my hair, not Peeta.

When I can't sleep anymore due to the pain, Elisha checks me. I'm at five now, halfway there. I swear like a sailor with every contraction, cursing Peeta the most. But finally, just as I'm being told that I should get up and walk around, the front door flies open and there are Peeta and Haymitch.

"Oh, Katniss," Peeta comes to my side, helping me stand and pulling me into a hug. "I'm sorry I took so long. How are you feeling?" He asks gently. By this time, I'm sobbing.

"It hurts, and I'm tired, but I can't sleep," I take a rattling breath. "And I just want our baby safe in my arms." Peeta rubs my back while I hold onto him.

"I know, I know," he starts swaying side to side to help with the pain. "Keep breathing, in and out. Try to relax, everything will be fine." The next hour and half consists of Peeta leading me around the house, stopping when I have a contraction so he can whisper comforting words to me. Elisha and my mom offer me water, Haymitch stays in the background, observing. After two hours, they break my water for me. The gush from between my legs is warm, but relieving.

"Can I please lay down?" I beg Peeta who has been parading me around until I'm seven centimetres dilated.

"Sure, do you want to go upstairs to bed or just stay on the couch?"

"I don't care- oww!" I grab for Peeta and get a fistful of shirt. Patiently, Peeta loosens my grasp and lets me squeeze his hand instead.

"Let's bring her upstairs, Peeta. She'll be more comfortable," my mother says quietly. It takes Haymitch and Peeta supporting me on either side to get upstairs. I'm so sweaty and tired that I nearly fall into bed. My mother has already laid down towels to keep things clean for me.

"What can I do to make it better?" Peeta asks for the billionth time. And again, I just respond with: "Make it stop!" Unfortunately, Peeta can't – no one can – but he somehow does exactly what he should do. This time, he lays behind me and reaches his hand over to rub my stomach. In my ear, he whispers words meant for our daughter.

"Hi, baby. We're so excited you're on your way. Please come quickly and safely." I'm sobbing now, but from Peeta's words, not the pain. "Just three more centimetres and Mommy can start pushing."

Finally the time comes when the pressure is too much and my body starts pushing on its own. Peeta takes his spot beside the bed, holding my hand and wiping sweat from my forehead with a cold cloth. Everything feels unbearable. Haymitch stands on the other side of the bed looking a little pale through all of this.

My mother tries to explain what's going to happen now, telling me to pull my legs back when I push, and to push with the contractions. None of this gets absorbed, but Peeta listens. He holds one of my legs back and coaxes me to get the other one.

"Owww! Ow!" I start pushing before they tell me to.

"Good job, Katniss. A little harder," my mother and Elisha just watch me push. Apparently the bus can drive itself at this point.

I push for an hour before Peeta takes a look and tells me he can see the head. I've become so hot and sweaty that I've ditched Peeta's t-shirt and am now in just my bra. I'm exhausted and hurting. It feels like there's something wrong, but I can't stop pushing.

"You're doing great, honey. She's almost here," Peeta kisses my forehead. Even Haymitch says I'm doing a fantastic job. I push harder and harder, but don't feel my daughter coming down.

"I can't!" I exclaim loudly, leaning back against the pillows. "She's not coming out!"

"Yes, she is, Katniss," my mother prompts me to pull my legs back even more. "I promise she is. Just keep focused, okay?" I try, I really do. But something really feels wrong when I push. I try not to think of the placenta accreta.

"Hm, she's a little stuck," Elisha says. Peeta looks and I see him wince.

"Why? Is she okay? What do I do?" I panic. Haymitch and Peeta both try to comfort me.

"All you have to do is push harder. It'll hurt a little more, okay?" Elisha and my mother try helping me by stretching my cervix while I push. It hurts so much now that I scream, squeezing Peeta's hand. It takes one contraction before I feel the relief of having her head out.

"One more push should do it," my mother gets a blanket ready for the baby and I don't stop pushing until I feel her slip out of me.

Her cries are loud and music to my ears.


	49. You Know That You Love Me

Our baby girl gets put on my stomach, her cries getting louder after Elisha suctions her nose and mouth. When I look at Peeta, he looks like he's about to cry. I reach for his hand, but he pulls away.

"Peeta?"

"Sorry," he takes a step away, looks unsure about what he's going to do, and then practically runs from the room.

"Peeta!" I call after him, trying to get up. Haymitch takes Peeta's spot beside me, pushing me back gently.

"Stay here, stay with your baby," he strokes my hair and I do focus on the little girl on my stomach. Elisha cleans her off while my mother follows Peeta to make sure he's safe.

"Are you going to cut the cord, or would you like me to?" Elisha asks Haymitch.

"Oh, uh…" he looks at me and I nod. If Peeta can't do it, I want Haymitch to. "Sure, I'll do it." Elisha shows him where to cut and then she takes my baby to clean her up more and get her weighed.

"Is Peeta okay?" I ask desperately.

"Don't worry about him right now," Haymitch says. But how can I not worry? I've just had a baby – something I thought I'd never do – and Peeta can't even be in the same room as me. Is this how it's going to be now? He's going to have to leave like that? My heart pounds at the thought of my baby not being safe from her own father. I get so worked up that when my mother returns without Peeta, I burst into tears.

"Oh, dear, don't cry," she joins Haymitch at my side and holds my hand.

"But I want Peeta to be here with us. I need him," I cry.

"He's just getting a glass of water," she tries to calm me. I do stop my crying, but Peeta must be getting one giant glass of water because I have the afterbirth and get cleaned up before he's back. When he does enter the room, I'm holding our little angel. Her dark hair and blue eyes contrast beautifully.

"She looks like her mother," he says quietly. He carefully gets into the bed with me, reaching to stroke her chubby little cheek.

"But with her Daddy's eyes," I add. "Speaking of whom, are you okay?" He nods. "And do you want to tell me why you left?" He shakes his head.

"Not right now, but I promise I will later, and I promise you don't need to worry about it," Peeta leans over to kiss me. "I love you both."

"Do you want to hold her?" I offer and Peeta immediately reaches to take her. Carefully, I give her up. The smile on Peeta's face warms my heart.

"I love you, honey," he says, and I notice his voice gets caught in his throat. Our baby looks up at him, taking in her father's face. "She's so beautiful." I nod and rest my head against his shoulder. The others have all gone down to give us some time together as a family.

"She also needs a name," I point out, stroking the soft dark hair on her head.

"Primrose?" Peeta almost says it automatically. I wince and shake my head. "Well, how about just Rose? She kind of looks like a little Rosie." I look and he's right. The name still reminds me of Prim, but I kind of like it.

"Or Hanna after Johanna," I suggest. "Rose is cute, though."

"Hanna Rose Mellark," Peeta tries. "Rose Hanna Mellark," he shrugs and looks at me. "Which sounds better?" I take a minute to think, to envision myself calling after Rosie or Hanna.

"I think Rose Hanna is the best," I can't help but smile. She completes our family. Peeta, Katniss, and Rose Mellark. We love her already.

Everyone takes a turn holding our sweet Rose. Haymitch calls Winnow and Erin, but by the time they arrive, I've fallen asleep against Peeta. It's tiring work giving birth.

An hour later, I wake up to Peeta shaking me, Rose fussing in my mother's arms.

"She's hungry," she explains. Sure enough, when my mother gives her to me, Rose is trying to suckle on her own fist. Patiently, my mother helps me get Rose to latch on, and then she's happily drinking away. It hurts a little, but mostly just feels strange. I'm in awe that she's really here. Peeta and I made this together.

"Will you stay here tonight?" I ask pleadingly. My mother nods and smiles.

"I've already got my stuff in the guest room," she replies. When Rose is done eating, I rub her back to get out the gas. Peeta puts her in the tiny bassinet and then cuddles with me.

"Okay, Daddy," I start with a smile. "Tell me why you had to leave. Was it a hallucination?" Thank God he shakes his head.

"I felt bad."

"How so?"

"Because I was getting to see the birth of my baby. I got to see my family grow. Finnick and Haymitch never got to. I couldn't take that moment from them. They both deserved it more than I do," he explains.

"Oh, Peeta," I kiss him sweetly. "You deserve this so much. You've been patient and caring the whole time. You've been through so much in your life, how could you not deserve this just as much as Finnick and Haymitch?"

"I just felt guilty about it, especially with Haymitch there. Did he cut the cord?" Peeta starts brushing his fingers through my hair.

"He did," I reply.

"Good."

"But Peeta?" I sit up to look at him fully. "Even though you wanted Haymitch to have that moment doesn't mean you had to give it up completely. You should have been there for her." He looks over at the bassinet and sighs. I can see in his eyes that he's beginning to regret his decision. He'll never have that moment with his daughter ever again.

"I'm sorry," he says, and it breaks my heart how sincere he is.

"We forgive you. I'm so glad you came back," I lay my head back on his chest. Rose makes happy gurgling noises while she sleeps. I panic at first, thinking she's choking, but Peeta reassures me and says he'll only wake me in the night when she needs fed. My sleep is filled with the beautiful image of my family. I love that baby girl so much already. All my fears seem to evaporate now that she's here.

Our first week with Rose is harder than I thought. She eats a lot, has plenty of diaper changes and wardrobe switches, but never sleeps. Peeta tries to get up with her in the night to let me sleep, but he's not the one supplying her food. Besides, Peeta needs just as much sleep as I do. My mother is a huge help. Somehow she knows exactly what Rose needs just by the sound of her crying. It makes me feel somewhat inadequate despite Peeta telling me every chance he gets how great I'm doing, how I'm such a 'natural.' I nod my head when he says this, but I don't truly believe it. At least not until one afternoon when my mother and Peeta shoo me out of the house to get some fresh air. I'm gone for almost two hours. When I return, my beautiful girl is sobbing, great wails erupting from her little body, her bright blue eyes shut tight.

Peeta does what he can to calm her. At the moment I walk in, he's holding her tight to his chest, kissing the tears on her cheeks. But I can tell he's losing his patience; he's frustrated and upset that she's crying so much.

"What's wrong?" I ask, quickly taking off my shoes and going to them. Peeta looks up, looking lost and confused with this crying baby.

"I don't know! We fed her and changed her. She won't sleep, but she won't play either," he continues to rock her.

"Let me see her," I offer my arms to hold Rose, and Peeta gladly hands her over. He hovers over me as I shush the still-screaming girl. "It's okay, baby," I coo. "Don't be sad, Mommy's got you." While I sway side to side, I hum a little bit, keeping her close to my chest.

"Sing louder," Peeta says quietly to me, rubbing between my shoulder blades. I start really singing, stroking her tiny tuft of hair while I do. Rose starts to settle, too interested in hearing my voice to continue crying. When she's only whimpering, I stop singing and sit with her on the couch.

"See, honey? No need to cry. No need to get Daddy and Grandma all stressed out," I continue to speak to her as she watches me, her eyes big and round. "All better now, hm?" Her chest jumps with hiccups now as I tickle her feet. Peeta breathes a loud sigh of relief, looking haggard from his daughter's tiny ordeal. "Does Daddy need to be cuddled now, too?" I tease, holding Rose in one arm and offering the other to Peeta. He gladly sits with me, smiling down at Rose, tapping her nose with his finger.

"She just needed her Mommy," he says. My mother watches us cuddle as a family, making sure Rose has actually settled before heading back home. I stroke Rose's cheek until her eyelids droop. Crying is exhausting for my little girl. "I'm telling you, Katniss, no one can calm her down like you can. She knows your touch, your voice. She loves you as much as you love her." Peeta's lips press against my temple gently. I believe every word he says.

A month later, Gale and his new wife come to visit. Tink is tall and athletic. Her tan skin matches Gale's, and her dark hair has streaks of red in it. She is very pretty, her features very delicate. I can almost forgive him for getting married because she _is_ well-suited for him.

When Gale sets eyes on our tiny Rosie, he can't hide his smile. I remember all those years ago when he said he wanted to have kids if the circumstances were better. Well, now the circumstances are much better. And now he has someone in his life to love. I sincerely hope that Tink wants kids as much as Gale.

"Want to hold her?" Peeta offers to him. Immediately, Gale's eyes widen a little. He nods anyway, holding out his arms to take her. Once she's safely against his chest and Peeta's stopped hovering, Gale can't take his eyes off her.

"She's beautiful," he says quietly. Tink leans over his shoulder to look at Rose, smiling and kissing Gale's cheek. "So beautiful." Rose stretches her arms out and Gale offers her his finger. With an iron grip, she holds on, trying to put his index finger into her mouth. Tink, Peeta, and I have an entire conversation while Gale and Rose having a staring contest, each just as captivated as the other. Eventually, Rose lets out a whimper and I have to intervene.

"She's about to get very fussy, Gale. It's time to be fed," I warn, going to take her. Reluctantly, he lets me take her upstairs to be fed in privacy. She easily latches on, despite some of the more difficult night feedings we've had. Peeta appears while I'm burping her. "What's wrong?" I ask from the rocking chair.

"Nothing. I'm just making sure you're okay. Gale wants to know if he can hold her again." A weak smile appears on Peeta's face. I frown in return.

"Is that not okay? You know, Gale hasn't held a baby since Posy. He probably misses it," I explain. Peeta takes a seat on the footstool.

"I feel weird about it. Sorry." Rose tries to turn her head now that she can hear her Daddy's voice. Instead of fighting her, I let Peeta take her now. "When I see him holding her, see their matching hair… I can't help but get flashbacks of you marrying him. I know that didn't happen, and the flashbacks are fast, but I really start to think that you had a baby with him and not me."

"Should you be holding her right now, then?" I ask, getting a little panicky. If there's an attack coming on, I can't let her get hurt. I won't allow it. Peeta shakes his head and rubs her back.

"I promise I'm okay. I just don't want Gale to keep holding her. Is that okay? I want her to be mine."

"She is yours, though," my fingers run through his hair. "And I know you love her with all your heart. And you love me, too. Don't forget." Peeta nods, but he seems so unsure, still. "Peeta, look at me," I say sternly. He looks up, his blue eyes meeting mine, reminding me so much already of Rose's. "You know that you love me. You always have."

And I know that I love him.


End file.
